Who is the Phantom Menace, anyway?
by EinAffe
Summary: An epic and hilarious or so I'm told rendering of TPM with a few twists and turns. Featuring bigger fish, infatuated handmaidens, random Anakin, weird Qui-Gon, hated-by-the-Force Obi-Wan and most important: galaxy-saving yellow letters! Finally COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Author's note: This is my take on Episode I. I mostly use the movie as a fundament for the plot, but I also altered a few things and invented a few new ones. As you will soon notice, I tried my best to write a parody, and I hope you will enjoy my weird and occasionally random humor.

Warning: At the beginning of this chapter, some people will be killed off. Sorry, it's necessary for the plot. It's not anyone you know, though.

Disclaimer: Just to make this clear, I don't anything pertaining to Star Wars. My little brother owns one of those plastic lightsabers, but that's about as far as I will ever get to owning George's creation. I also wrote this purely for fun (both my fun and hopefully also your fun) and thus, I don't make any profit aside from the reviews, which are the only reward I'll ever get and want. So please give generously!

oOo

Amidst the black void of open space that could be seen through the window of a shiny and silvery spaceship, there was a blue-green planet. But although this planet looked bright and peaceful from the distance, not all was well. The lone lush planet was surrounded by menacing battleships and droid control ships besieging it, thus effectively blocking any kind of traffic to and from this beautiful world of Naboo.

But fortunately, Supreme Chancellor Valorum had sent a Jedi Master and his apprentice to settle the dispute and negotiate a solution that was acceptable to both the Trade Federation and the people of Naboo.

Jedi Master Of-No Importance and his Padawan Equally Unimportant were standing right behind the pilots of the Republican ship that was to take them to one of the battle ships forming the blockade around Naboo, preparing to exit Hyperspace.

The two pilots who were so irrelevant that they didn't even have names were talking to each other.

So it was no wonder that Pilot 1 was very concerned about their continued well-being: "You know, I am worried. We are just two insignificant pilots and after this job, we're no longer needed for the plot of the movie. No, I am more than worried. There's nothing that could keep us from being just casually killed off. We only have about two lines each. We'll suffer the fate most other unimportant characters such as us suffer eventually: We'll be disposed of in a fashion that either makes the main characters look good or shows how truly evil the villains are."

Pilot 2 tried to calm him down: "Don't worry; we have at least another few minutes. Nothing will happen to us as long as these Jedi are still on board. They are the main characters, right? They can't be killed yet, they are still needed, aren't they?"

Unfortunately for Pilots 1 and 2, this was not the case. Had they thought about the names of their passengers for just one minute, they would have had every reason to suspect what was about to happen. As they came out of hyperspace, they crashed into huge yellow letters that were for some reason slowly flying away into the depths of space, accompanied by thunderous music. No one knew where these huge letters were headed or why they were even there, but from that moment on they kept soaring through space for all eternities, puzzling many an inhabitant of the known Galaxy (and probably a few of the unknown Galaxy, as well). And this was the tragic but short end of the Jedi and his apprentice as well as Pilots 1 and 2.

oOo

Fortunately, the Supreme Chancellor had also sent a second team of Jedi Master and apprentice, because he had suspected something along these lines would be happening. And honestly, it was not such a huge surprise, given the names of all the characters so far.

It was even more fortunate that the backup team consisted of Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn and his Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi. They still had rather silly names, but at least these names were acceptable for main characters of a science-fiction movie, so they wouldn't be killed off by the introduction.

These two had been contacted by the Jedi Temple shortly after the tragic demise of the first team. At first they were a bit bewildered upon hearing that Master Importance and his Padawan had been killed by a giant yellow "W", but they swiftly came to the conclusion that maybe they hadn't interpreted Yoda's strange backwards way of talking properly.

And so they were now also standing behind the pilots' seats of the faded pink Republic vessel they had been given, waiting for permission to enter the command ship of the Trade Federation. While his Master Qui-Gon was talking to the pilot who was to make contact with the command ship, Obi-Wan stared curiously at what looked like yellow text that was slowly receding into the void of space, being the first of the aforementioned inhabitants of the known Galaxy to be puzzled by it.

But as they were finally given permission to land by some rather ugly green alien with a strange accent, he simply shrugged and focused is attention "on the here and now" as his Master would undoubtedly shortly tell him to, because that's what Qui-Gon _always_ said. At least when he wasn't busy stating that "there is always a bigger fish", that is.

As they left the spaceship, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan put up their hoods so that they wouldn't be recognized. Obi-Wan found that rather superfluous as everything about them, from their plain, brown robes to the lightsabers they carried on their belts, practically screamed "Jedi" anyway, but he supposed that it was for effect.

They were led into a conference chamber by a silver droid that looked exactly like a female copy of Threepio. That it was female could only be told because its voice sounded somewhat female, not because it _looked_ female in any way. Fortunately, the protocol droid left quickly to tell its superiors that there were two Jedi waiting in their conference room.

Qui-Gon sat down at the conference table, waiting for the inevitable. And he didn't have to wait for long. His apprentice was looking out the window, seeing just the tiniest flash of yellow disappear in the distance.

"I have a baaaaad feeling about this!"

There it was. Obi-Wan said that every single time before a mission went completely the other way. Qui-Gon thought that it was high time he stopped saying it, as this was clearly what had caused all the difficulties they had invariably experienced later on in any mission so far, because when Obi-Wan didn't say his trademark sentence, usually nothing bad happened. And surely it was impossible that someone whose strength was in the Unifying Force got a sense of forewarning before something bad happened. So Qui-Gon simply told his Padawan to shut up, although naturally he did it in a more polite and less blunt manner, using a trademark sentence of his own.

oOo

In the meantime, the protocol droid reported back to Nute Gunray:

"Sir, there are two Yetis in our conference room."

The viceroy was flustered: "Yetis? What are Yetis?"

The other ugly green alien standing next to him offered his opinion on the matter: "Yetis are huge, hairy, ape-like creatures not unlike Wookies. But in The Phantom Menace, there are no Wookies yet, so I believe that this protocol droid is rather badly programmed and can't tell huge hairy ape-like creatures from the rather good-looking main characters of this movie, who are Jedi and not Yetis, by the way."

At this, the viceroy relaxed slightly, just to become tense once again a second later: "Jedi? They sent Jedi? I won't go in there, I don't want to die. Please, I am far too young and handsome to die!"

At this, the other green alien had a coughing fit that luckily concealed his laughing fit.

Between the laughs… oh sorry, the coughs, of course, he panted: "Send the droid! It's useless, anyway. Who would want such a badly programmed droid? If it's destroyed, who cares?"

And so, the cousin of Threepio was sent back into the conference room, where the dangerous Yetis… erm, Jedi, were sitting, discussing what Master Yoda might or might not have meant at some point and wondering why they were kept waiting for so long. When the droid entered, the Jedi sat there in silence, thinking about the possible outcome of the mission.

Obi-Wan sometimes thought his Master didn't give proper thought to his concerns. Whenever he voiced one of his baaaaad feelings, Qui-Gon simply brushed him aside, although these feelings had turned out right time and again. Even though his Master always told him to listen to the Force and trust his instincts and even defy a few orders, if necessary, he never tolerated this attitude in his Padawan. And although they had been kept waiting for a time too long to be still considered in the least bit polite _and _Qui-Gon conceded that he felt an unusual amount of fear for a simple negotiation, still he wouldn't even consider that elusive bad feeling that had been nagging at Obi-Wan for some time now.

A little frustrated, Obi-Wan thought that maybe there was a secret rule (the only one Qui-Gon never broke) that stated that Masters were right by default, no matter how many reasonable (and occasionally even unreasonable, when Obi-Wan was it his most desperate to convince his Master and everything else had already failed) arguments a Padawan might put forth.

With a slight shake of his head and a tiny sigh, Obi-Wan reigned in his wandering thoughts. During a mission, it was probably of great advantage if one had one's wits about one and not let one's imagination run wild. Surely, it wasn't as if this simple mission would lead to the destruction of the Republic Galaxy in the end or some such nonsense.

The Padawan thought to himself: "Get a grip on yourself, Kenobi! Don't be so paranoid. You're acting as if all this is just an elaborate plot by the Sith to take over the Galaxy. Don't be ridiculous! Next thing, you'll suspect the Supreme Chancellor of being on the Dark Side!"

Looking over to his Master, Obi-Wan found a look of utter concentration on the older Jedi's features. For a short moment, the Padawan wondered what his Master might be thinking about. Judging by the look on his face, he was entirely focused on the task ahead of them, or maybe pondering some great mysteries of the Living Force that still eluded his student. This only showed to Obi-Wan that he was still the apprentice who let his thoughts stray during an important mission while his Master was applying all of his considerable abilities to the task at hand.

Contrary to what the near hero-worship of his Padawan was implying, though, Qui-Gon's thoughts were far away from their present situation. He had picked up this rousing tune sometime earlier, and he couldn't get it out of his head now. He was sure he had heard it before, as they were coming out of Hyperspace. But then, why would there suddenly be music? That would certainly be as absurd as huge yellow letters flying through space, now would it?

Fortunately, the protocol droid came back at this moment and made sure that the plot was not completely lost in thought. It carried a silver tray with a beaker and two cups.

It crossed the room in its stiff, small steps. First, it came to stand next to Obi-Wan and waved the tray in front of his face, obviously expecting him to take one of the cups. The Padawan was startled out of his thoughts and gave the droid a questioning glance as he had expected Qui-Gon, who was obviously his superior, to be served first. Still, the droid, TC14, looked at him expectantly, if that is at all possible for a droid, and only backed off to offer the other cup to Qui-Gon after he had taken one.

With a mischievous gleam in his eyes, Obi-Wan looked to his Master and sent over their training bond: "You must be looking particularly young today, Master. Or I must be looking particularly old. Or this so-called protocol droid has no idea of protocol whatsoever."

At this, Qui-Gon snapped out of his internal orchestra replaying the tune he had heard earlier, finding himself without drink even when his Padawan had already been served. The astonished look on his Master's face drew a mental chuckle from the Padawan, who then added via the bond: "If all of their droids are as… _well-programmed_ as this one, that entire army of theirs shouldn't be a problem at all. Why, they would probably shoot each other right away."

Obi-Wan waited for his Master to get a drink before taking a sip. Obviously, his manners were better than the droid's.

Their amusement at the clumsy social blunder of the silver droid was abruptly cut short, however, when the two pilots who had brought them here (going by the names of 3 and 4, by the way) exploded along with their spaceship. Initially, it had been planned that after delivering the Jedi to their destination, they would just take off again. But then Pilots 1 and 2 had started demanding equal treatment of all the unimportant characters and threatened to haunt the author for eternity, so it was tough luck for their colleagues.

Obviously, the negotiations would be even shorter than Qui-Gon had expected, because just as the two Jedi sprang up and ignited their lightsabers (as if that would in any way help the poor pilots who were blown to bits tanks to their friends Pilot 1 and Pilot 2 in collaboration with the battle droids of the Trade Federation), smoke began billowing through the ventilation system and into the conference room.

Immediately, Qui-Gon stated with absolute certainty: "Dioxis!"

Obi-Wan had to suppress a groan. His Master was never one to correctly apply scientific terms, but it was certainly not his Padawan's place to tell him that he rather meant "carbon dioxide". And of course Obi-Wan wouldn't comment on the fact that carbon dioxide didn't smell all flowery and sweet, either, and so was probably not what was coming out of the ventilation at all.

Still, both took a deep breath, extinguished their lightsabers and waited for the door to open, hoping that the ones in command would be too impatient and actually open the doors before what they had planned for the Jedi took effect.

Absently, Obi-Wan mused that they apparently had to deal with politicians quite often to have installed poisonous gas dispensers in any random room of their spaceship and that they shared his dislike of all these dishonest and insincere so-called "servants of the public".

oOo

On the control bridge, panic was taking over. The Neimoidians were scurrying around aimlessly, completely shocked out of their minds, which made them even less effective and even more spineless then they normally were. This confusion also contributed to the fact that the room the Jedi were in was flooded with perfume rather than with toxic fumes.

"Where are those droidekas? I want them here yesterday! These Jedi are dangerous. We will keep the doors closed for half an hour and keep them locked up this long with the poisonous gas; that should suffice. Still, one can never be too secure, I think. I still want the battle droids."

His assistant answered: "The battle droids are on their way. And I am sure that not even these seemingly all-powerful Jedi can achieve anything against our droidekas, they are hyper-intelligent and they have these cool bubble-thingies."

At this, Nute Gunray calmed down somewhat: "Yes, I am confident that the elite warriors of this Galaxy can't handle a few machines. But close the extra-thick doors to the command center, just in case."

In the meantime, some fifteen of the spindly, brainless battle droids had assembled in front of the closed door behind which the Jedi had been imprisoned for some thirty minutes.

The commander of the small group ordered: "Open the door, seargent!"

At once, he was surrounded by a chorus of "Roger, Roger!"

Slowly, the doors parted. At first, nothing happened. Then, TC14, the annoying protocol droid, came shuffling out, excusing herself. Why she did it will forever remain a mystery, though.

The droids trained their guns on the opening before them, even though it seemed rather unnecessary. And it probably would have been, as even someone so highly trained as the Jedi couldn't survive for half an hour without oxygen. Luckily for Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan, though, it hadn't been poisonous gas that the room had been filled with, but perfume. Apparently, there had been a slight mix-up with the computer, and instead of being dead, the Jedi now had an overpoweringly sweet, flowery and distinctly girly scent clinging to them.

Turning their lightsabers on, they staggered from the room, coughing from the penetrating smell, doubling over and trying to breath in as much fresh air as possible. The battle droids looked at them helplessly for a moment and then opened fire. Still stumbling and coughing, the Jedi deflected the blaster bolts that were shot at them. Then they started disassembling all the droids rather efficiently, performing awesome battle moves even though no one was there to watch. (What a pity…)

After the droids had been reduced to a smoldering heap of junk, the Master and Padawan turned their lightsabers off.

"Padawan, you smell like an entire house of disputable reputation. I didn't know that you bathed in perfume this morning. And perfume for women, at that!" teased Qui-Gon.

Obi-Wan sniffed his robe once and immediately started coughing again. "You know, Master, this will probably cling to our clothes for half an eternity. We will most likely smell like a whole perfume shop for the entire mission. I don't consider this a joking matter."

He walked over to his Master and instantly recoiled. "You smell just as bad as I do, Master. Now everyone can find us just by following the smell. So much for stealth."

And with that, the two took off down one of those endless corridors that seemed to be the latest fashion since everyone had at least one of them.

oOo

Edited on 24th December, 2010


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Disclaimer: If you're a doctor, deal with it! If you're a lawyer, please don't ;-)

oOo

A short time later, the two Jedi had arrived in front of the door leading to the command centre. Inside, they could hear the nervous babbling of the Neimoidians.

Outside the bridge, Qui-Gon plunged his lightsaber into the thick metal door, slowly cutting a circular hole in it trying to get in. Obi-Wan was standing guard in case that annoying protocol droid should return and offer them any more drinks or some more battle droids should come their way. Plus he looked a whole lot cooler standing there with his lightsaber and guarding his Master's back than he would idly watching his Master doing all the work.

But as the Trade Federation types, as Qui-Gon liked to call them, were not only cowards but also paranoid, they had an extra set of doors installed for just such an event, which they also closed promptly.

As Qui-Gon heard the thud of the reinforced doors slamming shut, he withdrew his lightsaber and then plunged it in again, this time in the middle of the door. The thick metal started to melt, which only caused the panic inside the room to intensify.

Finally, though, the droidekas arrived. And although Obi-Wan clearly saw them coming and even shouted "Master! Destroyers!" no one did anything as long as they were still vulnerable without their shields up. Rather, the two Jedi waited for the droids to open fire, deflecting a few of the shots.

"They have shield generators!" Obi-Wan stated, quite superfluously, in his Master's opinion, as it was painstakingly obvious that they did.

"Why, thank you for the update, Captain Obvious," Qui-Gon mumbled in response.

oOo

The viceroy of the Trade Federation was hugely relieved as he watched the two cloaked figures run down another long hallway faster than they had any right to be.

What he didn't know was that they had only used the destroyers as a welcome excuse to stop their attempt to get into the command centre, because they wouldn't have known what to do in there once they had gained entrance, and beside it was much more exciting like this, anyway.

When Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon reached the end of the endless hallway, they did what was required to happen at least once in every self-respecting action movie: They went up the ventilation shafts.

While they crawled through the narrow pipes, Obi-Wan asked: "Master, why don't we do this more often? I mean running at Force-enhanced speed. It seems pretty useful when one is in a tight spot. Why is that the only time we are allowed to do this? It might actually save your live when we fight that Sith later on. If I were allowed to run as fast as we did just now, I could reach you in time. Of course I know that there _is_ the distinct possibility of my running straight into that huge abyss in the middle of the room because I can't slow down in time, but as I will fall in there anyway, I could at least give it a try."

Qui-Gon stopped in his crawling and looked over his shoulder to his apprentice, blinking in surprise at what he had just heard from his student.

After a short moment of consideration, he answered:

"Well, running so fast might be very convenient for us at times. But have you noticed that we completely left the cameraman behind? He can't run as fast as we can and has no chance of catching up with us like this. So please take pity on the poor man who has to follow us and give him a chance to do his job. He can never get the footage he needs if we always run away from him. Besides, you would completely upset the rest of the storyline if you saved me from dying, and I am not sure if the producer would be very appreciative of that. You know, Padawan, that you must always listen to the will of the producer… erm, I mean the will of the Force, of course. And besides, didn't I tell you not to centre on your anxieties but to keep your focus on the here and now, no matter what Master Yoda has to say on that matter. Just because he's green, wrinkly and old doesn't mean that he knows everything."

And with that, he turned around again and resumed their advance towards the hangar bay, his Padawan who was lost in thought following in his wake.

Finally arriving at the hangar bay, Qui-Gon dropped out of the ventilation shaft, followed closely by Obi-Wan. Immediately, they hid behind a few crates that had been stacked there for their convenience. The hangar was teeming with battle droids boarding numerous ships that would take them to the surface of Naboo.

"Battle droids." said Qui-Gon.

But when it came to stating the obvious, his Padawan was not to be outdone: "It's an invasion army!"

"_Of course_ it's an invasion army. Duh! What else would thousands of these brainless battle droids be good for? Certainly not as entertainment for the Queen's birthday party! You know, stating the obvious is fairly redundant at times,"Qui-Gon bristled. Then, he added: "This is an odd play for the Trade Federation. We've got to warn the Naboo and contact Chancellor Valorum."

Obi-Wan was slightly irritated that his Master always unfailingly rebuked him for things he himself did all the time. But then he remembered that Qui-Gon would have to die by the end of the movie and decided that instead of arguing with his Master, he should enjoy the little time that remained for them to spend together.

"Let's split up, stow aboard separate ships and meet down on the planet." Qui-Gon instructed.

At this, Obi-Wan looked up, feeling slightly uneasy with the way his Master had just contradicted his thoughts. And even though the spindly battle droids were not exactly bright and would notice two Jedi on board just as much as a single one, and on top of that meeting on the planet was probably a lot more complicated than simply staying together, Obi-Wan abided by his Master's orders.

But he couldn't resist a little barb and so he said with a teasing grin: "You were right about _one_ thing, Master… The negotiations _were_ short."

oOo

Meanwhile on the control bridge of the Trade Federation ship, Queen Amidala, the elected leader of the Naboo, was talking to the viceroy. Strangely, though, she didn't appear as the usual blue holographic image but in colour on a huge screen that rippled like the surface of some fluid. Although this technology didn't have any obvious drawbacks in comparison to the holoimages, this would be the only time it would be used, probably because it looked less cool.

The queen herself looked like a young girl, which was as it should be, because she was a young girl of fourteen. Aside from that, she looked like the mutual child of a clown and a treasure chest: her face was painted stark white with red lips and red dots on her cheeks. She wore an elaborate headdress along with an equally elaborate hairdo that looked as if it would weigh so much that her slender neck was in constant danger of simply snapping from the strain of holding her head up. She also wore a rather stiff formal robe that matched the overall colour theme of face paint and headdress perfectly.

The viceroy was rather pleased that at last, their actions had brought on some results.

He greeted Queen Amidala, not quite managing to banish the gloating from his voice: "Again you come before us, Your Highness."

In a formal and monotone voice, the Queen answered: "You will not be so pleased when you hear what I have to say, Viceroy!"

Then, in a rather whiny voice, she complained: "You and your Trade Federation guys are such meanies. I don't like you! You are sooooo mean. If you don't stop bullying me, I will go and tell the senate! Give my planet back! It's mine! You can't take it, it's unfair! I want it back!"

Indignantly, she stomped her foot. As this wasn't followed by the reaction she had hoped for (the Trade Federation giving back her planet), she started pouting: "Your trade boycott of our planet has ended! You are not allowed to block my planet any more. And I am sure you will be punished severely for your transgressions. You won't be allowed to use the phone for at least a fortnight. And no emails or SMS, either. You won't be able to gossip with all your friends. And you won't be allowed to watch your favourite series on TV!"

For all her royal appearance, the Queen of Naboo was obviously still only a teenage girl.

Highly amused, the Viceroy taunted: "I was not aware of such failure."

At this, Amidala gloated: "But I have word that the Chancellor's ambassadors are with you now and that you've been commanded to reach settlement. So this is what you get for being so mean. They will rap you on your knuckles, and then you will be sent to bed early. I am sure you will get no sweets for an entire week and you'll be grounded for at least three days. And no pocket money for you next month! Serves you well for being such bullies!"

At first, the Viceroy was shocked. Grounded for three days? No pocket money? Being sent to bed early? If that was true, then the next few weeks would be a complete disaster. But then he remembered what had happened with the Jedi: they were gone for good, probably somewhere on the planet with all the battle droids around searching for them. Surely, they wouldn't survive much longer.

So he simply told her: "I know nothing of any ambassadors. You must be mistaken."

This did not sit well with the Queen: "You are really getting on my nerves. This is so uncool. You have gone too far this time, Viceroy! I will tell all of your misbehaviour to my senator, he is a really nice and grandfatherly guy even though he's evil on the inside, and he will tell the Supreme Chancellor. And then you can see what you get from being so bad!"

The Viceroy countered: "We would never do anything without the approval of the senate. You assume too much."

With a last sulking "We will see!" the Queen disappeared from the screen, effectively ending the conversation.

The Viceroy then ordered that all communications on Naboo were to be disrupted.

oOo

And really, just as Queen Amidala was talking to "her" Senator Palpatine who looked exactly like Darth Sidious without the hood, the communications broke down.

"What's happening?" the Queen asked alarmed.

Captain Panaka ordered: "Check the transmission generator!"

And Sio Bibble chimed in: "A communications disruption can mean only one thing: invasion."

What they didn't know was that it had not been necessary at all for the Trade Federation to disrupt communications as apparently Naboo hadn't paid its phone bill and so the phone company had shot down all their communication systems. It seemed that the Queen was very fond of talking to her royal friends on Alderaan for hours on end and that the national treasure couldn't pay the horrendous sum they had been charged for these long-distance calls.

Amidala was pleased that she could blame the Viceroy for that: "Yeah, that's it. Exactly! It's all the Trade Federation's fault! _They_ shut down our communications."

oOo

Edited on 24th December, 2010


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Disclaimer: Narp!

oOo

While the Queen and her advisors were still discussing what to do about their unfortunate situation or whether anything could be done at all, the battle ships of the Trade Federation were already on their way to invade Naboo.

But unknown to the leaders of this mechanical army, these ships were not only carrying mindless battle droids. Two stowaways were also on board of two different ships.

As the commanding droid of one such transport went past an especially dark niche, his olfactory chemoreceptor picked up traces of unusual chemicals. Quickly running a check in its internal database of organic molecules, it found them to be mostly synthetic analogues to biochemical substances that gave flowers their scent and a bit of evaporating ethanol. Swiftly cross-referencing its discoveries with its algorithm to separate threats from non-threats, it found flowers to be not threatening and so didn't further inquire where that scent was coming from, much to the relief of the Jedi who was still reeking of perfume and who for now remained hidden in said dark corner.

A short time later, Obi-Wan could finally abandon the cramped hiding spot on the transport ship and stretch his legs again. He was glad that they had finally arrived on Naboo; at least there was some fresh air here. He sniffed his robe again, the corners of his mouth slightly twitching downwards in disgust. With his luck, the smell would stubbornly cling to him right to the end of this mission. Hoping that water might help some against the overwhelming smell and that he might escape from the battle droids unnoticed, he jumped into the nearest pool of swampy water.

Wait, pool of swampy water? Wasn't this supposed to be an invasion of Naboo? And wouldn't reason dictate in that case that the invasion army be sent to some kind of strategically significant location, like the capital city of Naboo, where the Queen and her court resided? Obi-Wan looked around to the huge trees and marshy landscape. Unless the Naboo were microscopic life forms who resided on the underside of a big leaf (and the Padawan very much doubted that), they were not in Theed but somewhere in the wilderness, miles away from any kind of civilization, much less the Palace of Theed.

"Marvellous!" Obi-Wan groaned. This was certainly not his day. The negotiations hadn't even had a chance to fail as they had never started in the first place. He stank like he had bathed in perfume (and girly perfume, no less), and his baaad feeling had been nagging at him all day, gradually getting stronger. And now, the battle droids had spotted him and immediately started shooting at him. But Obi-Wan was not completely helpless. In seconds, he had neatly disposed of the droids. But just as he wanted to apply himself to the task of locating his Master in this tangled forest, another two droids appeared. He disposed of them just as efficiently as the first two, but then yet another two of these mechanical pests appeared…

After Obi-Wan had reduced about two dozen battle droids to smoldering heaps of metal and wire and still new ones kept appearing when their predecessors were destroyed, he decided that he had had quite enough of that. Deeming that under these circumstances finding his Master without wasting precious time trying to find out if the supply of droids ever ran out was his top priority, he made his way through the trees and the holes filled with murky water towards Qui-Gon.

With every step, the bad feeling that had been plaguing him all day grew stronger. Obi-Wan wondered what the cause for that bad feeling was. Was it the huge invasion army presently on its way to the capital of the planet they were supposed to protect? Was it that their mission was quickly going down the drain, their attempt at keeping the peace having failed completely? Was it that he was now dodging blaster bolts from the droids chasing him? Was it that the Sith were only using this political fiasco to take over the Republic?

Just as he rounded the next corner, Obi-Wan spotted his Master and a tall, lanky amphibious creature with long, floppy ears. At once, he knew that this strange thing Qui-Gon had apparently picked up was responsible for his persistent bad feeling, which had been steadily becoming less and less elusive as he had drawn nearer to his Master and his rather dumb-looking companion.

Obi-Wan let his Master take care of the droids chasing him, even though it made him look rather stupid for not being able to handle them himself. But his plan worked, and no new droids came forth. Maybe it was just another of these days where Obi-Wan felt that everyone was out to get him.

While Qui-Gon was taking care of the droids, Obi-Wan took another look at what was apparently Qui-Gon's newest project. By now, Obi-Wan was used to having to deal with the pathetic life forms his Master picked up just about everywhere. But this looked to be the most pathetic one by far.

Obi-Wan wondered if it could speak; at least it looked like it had the larynx necessary for producing words.

"You saved my again!" it said, in an annoyingly shrill voice.

No, obviously it couldn't speak.

Obi-Wan turned a slightly accusatory gaze on Qui-Gon, while the irritating creature still was gawking at its rescuer.

"What's this?" he enquired, a little cross that his Master had picked up yet another pathetic life form that would invariably end up in Obi-Wan's care when his ever-living-in-the-present Master lost interest in it.

"A local," Qui-Gon answered. Duh, as if Obi-Wan couldn't have figured that out by himself.

Cutting short any sarcastic remark from his apprentice, Qui-Gon decreed: "Let's get out of here before more droids show up."

And with that, they left the local, hoping that it wouldn't follow.

But obviously, the prospect of more droids was both startling and terrifying for the stupid alien, who was probably a Gungan, from what Obi-Wan had read about them in preparation for this mission, even though he didn't look anything like the pictures he had seen.

"More? 'More' did you spake?" And with that, he ran after the Jedi. "Ex-squeeze me, but de mostest safest place would be Gunga City. Is where I grew up. 'Tis a hidden city."

Obi-Wan almost groaned. Trust Qui-Gon Jinn to find the only creature in the whole Galaxy whose manner of speech was even more annoying than Yoda's. But as they were still somewhere in the wilderness with nothing but miles of swamp and forest around them and probably at the antipode of Theed, maybe they could get some transport or at least directions to the capital city of Naboo.

His interest awoken, Qui-Gon enquired: "A city?"

The creature (Obi-Wan suspected that it probably had some such ridiculous name like Container Container, Bin Bin, Pot Pot or Jar Jar) nodded:" Uh-huh!"

"Can you take us there?" Qui-Gon requested.

Great, Obi-Wan thought. A whole _city_ of brainless Gungans who couldn't adhere to the rules of proper grammar.

But then, Jar Jar, who was the one to bring up this secret, hidden city, said: "On second thought, no. Not really, no."

Incredulous, Qui-Gon asked, turning towards the Gungan: "No?"

Obi-Wan also looked around. This was completely illogical. First, Jar Jar had practically offered them to bring the Jedi to this city full of idiots, and in the next second, the creature had changed its mind.

"'Tis embarrassing," the Gungan admitted, "but, ah, my afraid my have been banished. My forgotten. Da bosses would do terrible tings to me. Terrible tings to me if me goen back dare."

Although Obi-Wan admired the Gungan bosses for having enough common sense to banish someone as annoying and destructive (even if he didn't do it on purpose) as Jar Jar, he also pitied the pathetic creature, because the Jedi wouldn't give up so quickly. They would have to convince the bumbling Gungan to take them to their secret city, anyway, if they wanted to prevent a political disaster and rescue the Queen.

"You hear that?" Qui-Gon wanted to know.

Jar Jar lifted one floppy ear to listen to the distant sound of battle droid transports rumbling through the swamp.

"Yah!" he shrugged, clearly oblivious what that sound meant for him.

So Qui-Gon stepped closer to him, uttering a barely concealed threat: "This is the sound of a thousand terrible things heading this way."

Still, Jar Jar didn't grasp the meaning, and although Obi-Wan considered what was just said excessively blunt even for his Master, the Gungan apparently still needed to be further convinced of the severity of their situation. A stronger argument was needed to get through Jar Jar's thick skull. So Obi-Wan stepped closer to the Gungan, too, staring into his yellow eyes, and said: "If they find us, they will crush us, grind us into tiny pieces and blast us into oblivion."

Obi-Wan couldn't quite keep the sparkle of amusement from his eyes as he said that. Well, maybe it was a bit overdramatic, but at least it served his purpose. Glancing apologetically at his Master for this necessary exaggeration, he had to concede that this was not even near the truth. Well, maybe Jar Jar would be crushed, ground into tiny pieces and blasted into oblivion, but Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan wouldn't be proper Jedi if a few of these spindly battle droids could harm them.

Finally understanding, Jar Jar just said: "Oh!"

One could almost see the gears in his mind shifting. Obi-Wan mused that they probably hadn't been oiled for some time.

"Yousa point is well seen. Dis way, hurry!" Jar Jar urged, pointing in one direction and turning in a completely different one. Obi-Wan had to duck to prevent being struck by Jar Jar's flapping ears.

Now, the Gungan was very much in a hurry. He led the way towards a small lake in swift, long strides, trusting that the Jedi keep up with him. Maybe it _had_ been a bit much, Obi-Wan admitted. Now, Jar Jar was nervous and anxious to reach safety, even if that meant facing the bosses and the punishment he was risking by entering Gunga City. After a few minutes, they arrived at the edge of a lake.

"How much further?" Qui-Gon asked. Obi-Wan was sorely tempted to tell his Master to be patient, as that was what his Master always told _him_. Before he could decide whether it would be simple teasing or impertinence, Jar Jar informed them: "Wesa goen underwater, okeyday? Ah, my warning you. Gungans no liken outsiders, so don't 'spect a warm welcome."

"Don't worry, this hasn't been our day for warm welcomes," Obi-Wan told the Gungan, but with Jar Jar, one couldn't be so sure if he picked up the sarcasm behind that statement.

But now that they were standing knee-deep in the water, Jar Jar was stalling, nervously shifting on his feet. No amount of talking on Qui-Gon's part got him going again. And after reasoning with the Gungan for five minutes, even the Jedi Master's patience was growing thin.

But then his apprentice, who had obviously learned a thing or two about pathetic life forms under Qui-Gon's tutelage, came to his rescue. He picked up a stick from the ground, waved it in front of Jar Jar a few times and then said encouragingly: "Go, get it!" and threw it out into the lake.

All of his doubts overcome by the need to get the stick, Jar Jar gave an enthusiastic cry before somersaulting into the lake, chasing after the piece of wood.

Obi-Wan smiled apologetically at his Master, who couldn't quite keep the corners of his mouth from twitching in amusement. Then they got their breathers out and waded into the lake to follow Jar Jar.

Just at that moment they heard the cry of a strange bird which sounded distinctly like a malicious cackle. Qui-Gon looked around but couldn't spot the animal that had made the strange sound. Obi-Wan just hoped that it wasn't meant as some kind of ominous foreboding.

At that moment, Jar Jar reemerged. "Yousa follow me now, okeyday?"

Apparently he had found the stick and he didn't have any more qualms now that he was in the water.

Diving into the lake, they found that it didn't look like a rather small lake anymore but rather like half an ocean. Funny how deceptively small the thing looked from the outside, but that was probably on purpose to keep the hidden city hidden.

Diving down towards the huge illuminated bubbles on stakes that formed the city of the Gungans, Qui-Gon and his Padawan shared a surprised glance. Apparently it was only by pure luck that this "hidden city" was still hidden, as the whole lake would probably glow like an entire herd of glowworms at night when the inhabitants turned their lights on.

The Jedi and their guide entered one of the bigger, more central bubbles, passing through some kind of vertical water surface that kept the inside of the city from being flooded.

And apparently the will of the Producer… erm, Force was with them, as they were not dripping wet as they by all rights should have been, but only slightly damp.

"So good bein home!" Jar Jar exclaimed once they were inside. But they had only ventured a few steps into the city before Jar Jar and the two Jedi were stopped by some military-looking Gungan riding on what looked like a giant featherless chicken without wings. Absently, Obi-Wan wondered how they had brought the creature all the way into the lake as it didn't exactly look like it could swim.

The approaching Gungan was obviously some kind of guard of the city.

"Hey, yousa. Stopa dare." the guard told them.

It seemed that Jar Jar knew him: "Heyo-dales, Capt'n Tarpals. Mesa back!" he said, smiling up optimistically at his long-time friend.

But it seemed that his hopes were disappointed. Capt'n Tarpals groaned: "Noah gain, Jar Jar. Yousa goen tada in big dudu dis time."

Upon hearing this, Jar Jar seemed to shrink a bit, looking even more pathetic than he usually did. Obi-Wan felt sorry for him, it seemed like the Gungan was now in serious trouble thanks to the Jedi. He decided that he would convince his Master to help the poor creature, even though he would probably regret it later.

Soon, they were surrounded by more mounted Gungans. The Jedi tried to look as unthreatening as possible, just standing there, their hands hanging straight down. For Jar Jar, this tactic didn't work, though. Although he was the one looking the most harmless of the three, he got zapped by one of the electrostaffs.

"How wude!" he retorted.

Obi-Wan got the feeling that this was not the last time he would hear that exasperating expletive.

A short time later, Qui-Gon stood in front of the Gungan equivalent of the Jedi Council, his Padawan standing a few steps behind him. Jar Jar was off somewhere to the side, handcuffed and being restrained by two guards.

"Yousa cannot bees hair." The leader of the Gungans informed them matter-of-factly.

Obi-Wan thought that this remark was not very suitable, as they obviously _were_ here already.

"Dis army of Mackineeks up dare is new weesong."

_Yeah, whatever_, Obi-Wan thought.

Apparently his Master could gain some meaning from this babbling, or maybe he had just done some lucky guessing.

Whatever it was, he stated without missing a beat: "A droid army is about to attack the Naboo. We must warn them."

But Boss Nass, as he had been introduced earlier, wasn't very convinced by this argument.

"Weesa no like da Naboo. Da Naboo tink day so smarty. Day tink day brains sooo big."

_Now where did they get _that_ idea_, Obi-Wan thought. But maybe these Gungans were not as dumb as they sounded. Just because they talked in a strange manner didn't mean that they weren't capable of reason. He looked over to Jar Jar. Well, at least it didn't mean that _most of them_ weren't capable of reason. After all, Master Yoda also had a very strange and backwards manner of talking, and still he was one of the wisest Jedi ever. So he gave it another try. Maybe these Gungans could be reasoned with after all. He stepped forth a few paces and patiently explained in the simplest words that came to his mind:

"Once those droids take control of the surface, they will take control of you."

But his argument met a thick wall of indifference. "Meesa no tink so. Day not know of uss-en" Boss Nass said.

Never one to give up quickly, Obi-Wan tried once again: "You and the Naboo form a symbiont circle. What happens to one of you will affect the other. You must understand this."

But he was fighting a losing battle against the bullheadedness of "da Boss".

"Weesa no caren about da Naboo" Boss Nass explained disdainfully.

To Boss Nass, this was all very strange and suspicious. First, Jar Jar had come back _once again_ when he had personally threatened him with the worst punishment he could come up with. And now he had returned anyway. This time, though, he wouldn't give in to Jar Jar's pleading look. This time he would be punished as they had told him last time they had sent him away. This time, they would really tickle him till he was unconscious from laughing.

Then there were these strange Jedi who stank like the strange fragile and colourful plants the Naboo had brought on their planet, and he also thought he detected tiny whiff of gooberfish. And now there was that young guy who used all these big words. Boss Nass didn't understand half of what this Jedi had said.

But now the tall and hairy one said with a small wave of his hand: "Then speed us on our way."

And suddenly, he seemed like such a nice and reasonableguy who just wanted to do his job, so "da Boss" immediately agreed: "Weesa ganna speed yous away."

Near enough, Obi-Wan thought.

"We could use some transport," the tall Jedi continued with another wave of his hand.

"Wesa give yousa una bongo," Boss Nass decreed at once. "Da speediest way tooda Naboo 'tis goen through the planet cooooore. Now go," he ended.

_Finally_, Obi-Wan thought, glad that he didn't have to listen to these Gungans any longer. Obviously, diplomacy had already failed for the second time on this mission, and before Obi-Wan started quoting every bit he had ever read about the Gungans, the Naboo and symbiont circles, Qui-Gon had resorted to a Jedi mind trick to convince the Gungans.

"Thank you for your help. We leave in peace," Qui-Gon said as both he and Obi-Wan bowed to the Gungan council.

As they turned around to leave, Obi-Wan asked: "Master, what's a bongo?"

He hoped that his Master knew exactly what was awaiting them, because if he didn't Obi-Wan had a suspicion that a bongo was not a means of transportation but in fact a drum.

"A transport, I hope," was his Master's answer. Great, so he didn't have a clue, either.

Just as they were about to leave the council chamber, Jar Jar warned them: "Deysa setten yousa up. Goen through da planet core? Bad bombin'."

Obi-Wan supposed that if it was "bad bombin'", it must be something _really_ terrible.

"Any help here would be hot." Jar Jar added with a miserable grin.

Obi-Wan almost stumbled. Had that actually been a correct (if somewhat awkward) sentence from Jar Jar? But he had already taken pity on the wretched Gungan and so did the one thing that would make sure that Qui-Gon did everything to help that particular pathetic life form.

He informed Qui-Gon: "Master, we're short on time."

Obi-Wan knew that this would only make his stubborn Master do his best to prove his apprentice and his seemingly uncaring attitude towards these pathetic life forms wrong by showing him that said life forms could turn out useful in the end. And he was right. His Master quickly made up a reason why they would need the Gungan.

"We'll need a navigator to get us through the planet's core. This Gungan may be of help."

Right, as if Jar Jar were capable of navigating anything. He would probably even get lost in his own closet. But still, Obi-Wan quietly bowed his head and acquiesced. This was working out just the way he had planned, for a change.

His Master once again approached Boss Nass, asking: "What is to become of Jar Jar Binks here?"

"Hisen to be pune-ished," the Gungan leader informed them with no small amount of glee in his expression.

Dejectedly, Jar Jar lowered his head.

"I saved his life. He owes me what you call a 'life-debt'. Your gods demand that his life belongs to me now," Qui-Gon argued. Obi-Wan strongly suspected that his Master had just made that up on the spot.

"Binksssss, yousa haven a lifeplay with disen hisen?" Boss Nass asked, clearly annoyed at the prospect of having to let Jar Jar go without getting to tickle him first.

As Jar Jar nodded emphatically, the Gungan leader slobbered, sprinkling his fellow councillors with spittle, and then shouted: "Begone wit him!"

With a pleased smile, Qui-Gon bowed once again, then turned around and headed towards his waiting apprentice.

To Obi-Wan's surprise, Jar Jar immediately insisted: "Count me outta dis one. Better dead here than dead in da core." Then, he hit his haid, and shouted: "Yee gods! What mesa sayin'?"

And with that, he followed the Jedi out of the council room.

As Qui-Gon was away accompanying Jar Jar who was tying up some loose ends before leaving, Obi-Wan went to the docking bay to enquire what a bongo might be. As he had suspected, they were to be given what looked like a small drum. How that should get them anywhere, much less this frightful "planet coooore", was completely beyond Obi-Wan. Fortunately, Gungans were not exactly the brightest people, and as Obi-Wan claimed that they were to be given a transport, the Gungan gave it to him without question. He didn't even have to apply a mind trick.

When Qui-Gon and Jar Jar returned, Obi-Wan's Master quietly remarked, nodding to their acquired transport: "So this is a bongo? I told you it was some kind of transport, didn't I?"

Obi-Wan simply said nothing.

And with that, they left Gungan City, on their way to the fearsome core and hopefully Theed, the capital of Naboo.

oOo

Edited on 24th December, 2010


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars, but I _do_ like chocolate!

oOo

Shortly afterwards, the two Jedi had left the Gungan city with the not-bongo. Aboard was also Jar Jar Binks, possibly the most pathetic life form Qui-Gon had picked up in years – surely the most pathetic one Obi-Wan had ever met in his time as Qui-Gon's apprentice.

Obi-Wan was driving with Jar Jar sitting next to him. Qui-Gon was sitting in the back. Obi-Wan wondered why his Master left it to him to steer their strange vessel because Qui-Gon would invariably start to tell him where to go and how to drive, even though his apprentice was an excellent pilot. He simply was an incorrigible backseat driver. In addition, Obi-Wan suspected that his Master didn't want to sit next to Jar Jar.

"Dis is nutsen!" the Gungan declared loudly.

In Obi-Wan's opinion, this statement effectively summed up the situation they were currently in. Some minor bureaucratic squabbling was quickly turning into full-blown war complete with an invasion of this planet, their seemingly easy mission to keep peace had failed spectacularly before it had even started properly, and now they were deep inside what had looked like a comparably small lake on the surface, on their way to Theed with a short detour through the planet core.

But before Obi-Wan could finish thinking about what had gone wrong so far and, much worse, what would probably shortly go wrong on this mission, Jar Jar interrupted his evaluation of the situation by randomly stating: "Oh, gooberfish!"

And although it was obvious that they were at that moment passing through a school these so-called gooberfish, Obi-Wan decided to put an end to Jar Jar's random babbling which had been going on for some time now. Apparently, the Gungan was enormously agitated and just couldn't keep his scant wits about him.

Trying to get Jar Jar to think about something else and maybe calm him down a bit, Obi-Wan tried to make some polite conversation. And as the weather seemed to be the wrong thing to talk about so many miles below the surface of this planet-spanning ocean and Jar Jar wouldn't know anything about politics (not that the Padawan was exactly dismayed that he didn't have to talk about politics, which were one of his _particularly_ favoured topics), he asked politely: "Why were you banished, Jar Jar?"

As there was a chance that he would have to put up with the Gungan even longer than with the girlish scent stubbornly clinging to his clothes, Obi-Wan figured that he might as well get acquainted with Jar Jar. It could well be that the Gungan might become the representative of his people in the Senate, and his stupidity might be used by evil, scheming politicians to gain emergency powers.

Sitting in the back seat, Qui-Gon smiled benignly. There went his Padawan again, finally acknowledging their travel companion, which relieved the Jedi Master greatly, as he didn't really want to talk to his newest project. Fortunately his Padawan hadn't started some small talk about the weather, as he usually did when faced with people he didn't want to talk to, especially politicians. Admittedly, that was about the only topic one could stand to talk about with politicians, because it was a generally agreed-upon fact that good weather was good and bad weather was bad, and even the most dishonest and devious politicians had to agree to that.

And whenever his apprentice just needed something to occupy someone, he made a remark about some current political issue, trusting that the person opposite to him would then start ranting on and on about it, leaving Obi-Wan to think about something else and only requiring him to make some non-committal noises or gestures from time to time.

Pointing his thumb over his shoulder at Qui-Gon, Jar Jar interrupted the inner monologue: "Sorry, my forgotten what yousa were asking. Dissen Jedi was thinkin' too many. Yousa please repeat your question?"

Patiently, Obi-Wan repeated his question. He was already used to the long intermissions in conversation caused by his Master's incessant silent comments.

Jar Jar explained: "It's a longo tale-o, buta a small part of it would be mesa… clumsy." He looked away and lowered his head dejectedly.

Incredulous, Obi-Wan asked: "You were banished because you are clumsy?"

He still didn't know what to think of the Gungan, whether to feel pity for the sad creature because now one could stand him for an extended period of time and he didn't seem to have any friends, or to be annoyed by him to the point of not being able to stand him for any extended period of time and not wanting to be his friend.

"Ahh, yousa might'n be sayin dat," Jar Jar admitted, clearly embarrassed.

As they sank into the depths of the lake, Jar Jar explained his predicament, waving his arms around wildly: "Mesa caused mabee one two-y little bitty axadentes, huh? Yud-say boom da gasser, den crashin der boss's heyblibber, den banished."

Obi-Wan frowned slightly, concentrating on where they were going and at the same time wondering what a "gasser" was or how something that was called a "heyblibber" might look like. It sounded like some kind of vehicle, anyway. He found it rather unfair to banish someone just because that someone was responsible for some (or rather, in that case, numerous) accidents. But then he supposed that if someone crashed Mace's – sorry, Master Windu's - speeder, these unfortunate ones would also be kicked out of the Jedi Order rather unceremoniously.

While listening to Jar Jar's account of unfortunate accidents and thinking about Mace's speeder, Obi-Wan was additionally trying to evade the huge half-fish, half-flea that he could see chasing them in the rear-view mirror without a panicked Gungan next to him. Jar Jar had already gotten dangerously close to hitting the huge red EJECT-button with his uncontrolled gesticulation when he was just generally excited. Obi-Wan didn't want to find out what he would be like when he was terrified.

But the not-bongo wasn't quite fast enough to escape the sticky tongue the huge fish-like monster was flinging their way. As they came to an abrupt halt, everyone turned around to look for the reason of this unexpected stop. Upon seeing the thing that was about to eat them, not-bongo and all, Qui-Gon looked slightly surprised, whereas Jar Jar was shocked, giving a shrill cry of astonishment.

While the others were still staring at the monster, Obi-Wan was turning back to his controls, trying to find a way out of this situation that _didn't_ involve ending up in the stomach of this thing.

"OOOH, big gooberfish! Huge-o teeth!" Jar Jar cried.

As if they couldn't see that for themselves. Besides, this gooberfish didn't look in any way similar to the smaller animals they had encountered earlier which Jar Jar had also referred to as gooberfish. Maybe the Gungans simply labeled every creature that lived in the water as "gooberfish" by default.

As the gooberfish made away with this nice dinner in a tin it had just caught, a huge creature that looked like Godzilla appeared in the background, caught the tiny gooberfish (well, tiny in comparison) with its "even more huge-o teeth". Obi-Wan could already picture the outcome of this. Any minute now, his Master would finally have reason for one of his favourite sayings.

And really, the gooberfish let go of its dinner as it was ripped into pieces by Godzilla. Apparently, gooberfish wasn't to the taste of Godzilla, as the monster threw away half of the meal it had just caught after taking a bite.

Any second now, Obi-Wan thought. _Come on, you only get one chance to say this in a situation where it actually makes sense,_ the Padawan silently urged Qui-Gon.

But the Jedi Master stayed quiet. The only thing that could be heard was agitated breathing from Jar Jar, who was clearly in the early stages of cardiac arrest.

"Master?" Obi-Wan asked, concerned. "Are you all right?"

His Master was still staring out the rear window of their transport, a faraway look in his eyes.

Then, he snapped out of it. "What?" he asked, still a bit confused.

"Don't you want to impart some of your famous wisdom on us, Master?" Obi-Wan asked, half concerned, half teasing. "You know, this might be your only chance to say your favourite sentence without sounding completely random."

"Ahh, yes," Qui-Gon agreed, still a bit absent. "Of course. Now, here we go: Your focus determines you reality!"

A worried frown formed on Obi-Wan's face. "No, that's the wrong one. This one doesn't _ever_ make sense. I meant the other one. Master, are you sure you're all right?"

Qui-Gon waved his Padawan's concern away. "Yes, I'm all right. Just a bit preoccupied because your piloting skills almost got us eaten. So which one of the many things I always say do you want to hear? How about 'You must focus on the here and now, my young apprentice'? Or would you rather like 'Be mindful of the Living Force, Obi-Wan'?" Qui-Gon enquired.

Obi-Wan found it rather unfair to blame their almost ending up as dinner for some huge carnivorous inhabitant of this underground ocean on his skills as a pilot. But what worried him a lot more was that Qui-Gon couldn't seem to remember his favourite bit of wisdom.

"You know, the one about there always being a bigger fish." He reminded his Master.

Now it was Qui-Gon's turn to frown. "But why would I want to say that right now? It is in no way applicable to this situation. I think you have completely misunderstood the deeper meaning I've tried to teach you with this. You mustn't take everything _literally_! Clearly you still have much to learn, Obi-Wan."

_Deeper meaning? Not applicable to this situation?_ Obi-Wan thought he hadn't heard quite right. _There's a deeper meaning if he says that there's always a bigger fish?_

But the damage was already done, and now his Master started headlong into a long lecture about bigger fishes and hidden connotations, while Jar Jar insisted: "Mesa tink we goen back now!" just as they entered an underwater tunnel that would lead them even further towards the planet core.

_Wonderful!_ Obi-Wan thought. _This mission is getting better by the minute._

oOo

On the droid control ship, the viceroy of the Trade Federation was glad that he had at least _something_ positive to report.

"The invasion is on schedule, my lord," he said.

He didn't mention that the battle droids had a computer virus somewhere in their programming (they had the compulsion to say "Roger, Roger" ever so often) and that not only had they lost the two Jedi somewhere on their ship, but most probably said Jedi had somehow managed to get down on the planet all without the hypersensitive (and also extremely expensive) security system noticing anything. The lord they were currently talking to would be less than thrilled if he learned about that. Which is why they didn't tell him. It was the Sith Lord`s birthday and they didn't want to spoil his mood or else the birthday party would be not only exceedingly boring but also rather painful, as Darth Sidious had the maddening habit of zapping everyone with Force lightning while shaking hands whenever he was in a bad temper.

"I have the Senate bogged down in procedures. They will have no choice but to accept your control of the system," the larger-than-life holoprojection said.

The blue figure that represented Darth Sidious looked conspicuously like Senator Palpatine with a hood drawn over his face almost to his chin. But every time anyone approached him about that, he insisted that the similarities in appearance were completely coincidental and that the political power the Sith wielded were "not in any way related to the respected senator and rather good-looking future supreme chancellor from Naboo".

At first the Trade Federation was a bit worried that their Sith ally would so openly support the senator of the planet they were currently threatening in his bid for the office of supreme chancellor, but when Sidious told them with an evil cackle that this was all part of his master plan, they decided to go along with it as they had been promised that their actions would be legalized subsequently. And besides, it was still his birthday.

But the viceroy still had doubts about the political situation. "The Queen has great faith that the Senate will side with her. And besides, she's an annoying slip of a girl who started threatening us with reduced pocket money. She even claimed that we would be grounded for a week."

Throwing an anxious glance at the hooded man in front of him, he asked: "Do you think the senate will take such drastic measures?"

But the man who could easily have placed third or even second in any Palpatine look-alike contest assured them: "Queen Amidala is young and naïve. You will find controlling her will not be difficult. After all, she's just a teenager. And you're all grown… aliens… or whatever. Just give her something to distract her. A magazine for girls with lots of stupid love stories and pictures of horses, a sappy romantic movie, a few girls to giggle with, an invitation to a pyjama party… or maybe even better, just hand her some poor handsome young man and she won't stop squabbling over him with her handmaidens for the next _month_. I am sure you can handle her."

"Yes, my lord," the Neimoidans agreed at once.

Without even saying goodbye, the blue Sith flickered out of existence.

As soon as he couldn't hear them anymore, the associate of the viceroy pointed out: "You didn't tell him about the missing Jedi."

"No need to report that to him until we have something to report." The viceroy warned. "And besides, didn't he tell us to 'hand her some poor handsome young man'? And didn't we just do that?"

His assistant gave him a quizzical look. He feared that his boss had lost a few of his marbles.

But the viceroy further elaborated: "Well, I am no judge of these things, but I think that, by human standards, one of these Jedi would certainly qualify as handsome. And didn't we just more or less send the Jedi to the Queen? She will probably become all weak-kneed and shiny-eyed over her 'heroic Jedi hero' or some such nonsense. And from what I've heard, these human girls really like muscles and attractive features. And I think she will especially like the long hair and the beard of her oh-so-wonderful rescuer, don't you? And before we can count to three, the queen will have fallen for that grey-streaked hair and the impressive stature of Master 'What's-his-name'. And then she will be lovesick and unable to do anything against us. And besides, we still don't want to disappoint Lord Sidious. It's his birthday, remember?"

And with a quiet chuckle, the two Neimoidians walked down another of these endless corridors, priding themselves on their intricate knowledge of the workings of the human mind…

oOo

Edited on 26th December, 2010


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Disclaimer: It's not my birthday yet, but I also haven't given up hope yet. And if it's not for my birthday, maybe I can get them for Christmas?

oOo

Somewhere on Naboo, still under water:

The not-bongo was presently diving into a tunnel that looked exactly like the one they had just fled into from the "bigger fish" (or not "bigger fish", in that case).

"Where wesa goin?" Jar Jar wanted to know after already being on his way to wherever they were headed for about half an hour. He really had to prove every few minutes that he was not the brightest creature on this planet… or probably any other planet, for that matter.

Qui-Gon, being Qui-Gon, instantly replied: "Don't worry, the Force will guide us."

Obi-Wan could feel another one of his Master's fits of backseat-driving coming along, leading the way and all the while claiming that the Force told him where to go. If it really was the Force that was guiding them whenever Master Qui-Gon decided where to go, Obi-Wan had to suspect that it had a rather poor sense of direction.

Jar Jar had heard a lot about the Force and was genuinely in awe of anyone who could use it. He had always admired the Jedi Knights in the tales his mother used to tell him when he was still a small tadpole and he had a healthy dose of respect for this arcane power.

"Oh, maxi big, da Force," he said. But it didn't come out quite as deferential as it was intended, Jar Jar being the one who was speaking. It rather sounded condescending and mocking and earned him an offended stare from Obi-Wan.

Displeased with his own choice of words, Jar Jar tried to make amends by making his own statement look bad. "Well, dat smells stinkowiff."

But his apology wasn't received the way it was meant either, only deepening the frown on Obi-Wan's face. But that might also be due to the alarms sounding as the lights dimmed and the engines failed.

"We're losing power." Obi-Wan was obviously back to stating the obvious. He thought that it was an acceptable alternative to cursing in the most foul and colourful terms he could think of.

"Oh, no!" exclaimed the one person… creature… whatever on board who could survive in the water without problems, seeing as Jar Jar was of a species actually _native_ to water.

The lights flickered and died and the not-bongo slowly started to sink. In Obi-Wan's opinion, it was not such a huge surprise that they had trouble with their vehicle because said vehicle was currently sporting a huge hole in its hull. In fact, it was rather a miracle that not all the circuits had already shortened out and their ship had not already sunk to the ground, slowly filling up with water.

"Wesa dyin' here!" Jar Jar whined.

Obi-Wan considered this overdramatic. For the Jedi, there was a slight risk of dying, even if it seemed very far-fetched at this point. Obi-Wan was quite sue that as main characters, they got to live a little longer than that. But Jar Jar could _breathe _under water and his body was adjusted to living in the depths. So the only way he could die was if he got himself eaten by some huge gooberfish. And Obi-Wan wouldn't let it get so far, so Jar Jar's demise was still far off. More's the pity…

Looking at the control panel, the Padawan quickly saw that their ship was in surprisingly good condition, given that it had almost been eaten just moments before. Simply readjusting the power from the systems leaking the electricity into the water to systems that were still intact would do the trick, and it would only take a few seconds.

Meanwhile, Qui-Gon tried to calm down the distraught Gungan who was once again very close to pushing random red buttons in his reach. Not that it would do much good now that the power was gone, but still it probably wasn't a very brilliant idea.

"Just relax. We're not in trouble yet," said the Jedi Master on the backseat, completely unfazed by their current predicament. He was confident that his Padawan would get them out of this one, as he usually did.

"What, 'yet'?" Jar Jar asked, incredulous, just as Obi-Wan turned on the emergency power so that at least the lights were back on.

"Monsters out dare. Leak'n' in here. All sink'n and no power? Whena yousa tinkin wesa in trouble?" he hysterically tried to get through to Qui-Gon, who still didn't look in the least bit concerned. Thinking that it was not the Jedi Master's fault if he was a bit slow on the uptake, Jar Jar tried to explain the severity of their situation. He knew too well what it was like to slightly lose one's grip on reality, and obviously Qui-Gon was not completely aware of what was going on at the moment.

Thankfully, Obi-Wan managed to hotwire their means of transport right then, so that further discussions were prevented.

"Power's back," he said because he suspected that at least Jar Jar didn't notice the obvious right now and so it wouldn't hurt to inform the frantic Gungan. And besides, stating the obvious was what he was best at. He had always been top of his class in that particular subject in his time as a youngling at the Temple.

But the answer he got was not the expected half-serious reprimand from Qui-Gon but an ear-splitting shriek from Jar Jar: "Waaah! Monster's back!"

From the backseat came the admonishing voice of Qui-Gon Jinn: "Padawan, what did I tell you about stating the obvious? That Monster is taking up _all_ of the view from the front window, how should anyone have failed to notice it? You should really do something about that annoying habit of yours. And besides, there is also no need to screech like that. This is a small craft and not the Death Star, and we can all hear you perfectly well if you talk moderately."

While steering their ship safe of the huge teeth of the slug-like thing that obviously found two Jedi and a Gungan in a bin very appetizing, Obi-Wan protested: "But Master, that wasn't me. I know that I tend to occasionally state the obvious, but I would _never_ shriek like that. Just out of curiosity: What made you think…"

But his objection was quickly cut short as he rather focused on evading being eaten - yet _again._

This was truly not a day of warm welcomes…

Obi-Wan wondered if that monster and any further monsters that might conveniently pop up in the next few minutes had been attracted by the electric discharge their damaged craft had sent out earlier or whether the Force was simply out to get them. And whatever his Master said, sometimes he couldn't help but think that the Force really must hate a certain Obi-Wan Kenobi.

At least Qui-Gon was finally taking care of Jar Jar, who was completely out of his mind, looking around aimlessly, gesturing wildly and again dangerously close to indiscriminately pushing buttons on the control panel of their ship.

Placing a hand on Jar Jar's shoulder, Qui-Gon soothingly muttered "Relax!" at which the Gungan promptly slumped in his seat, though Obi-Wan was not sure if that was from his Master's Force suggestion or from the shock of having someone grab his shoulder from behind when he was already in a panic or probably a mix of both.

With a dramatic sigh, Jar Jar was out cold.

Now, the Gungan was lying on the floor of their little craft in a near-comatose condition. Clearly, this was too much for Jar Jar. The Force suggestion Qui-Gon had used could have knocked out a furious rancor.

"You overdid it," Obi-Wan commented. But he would do hell and use the Force to bring the Gungan back to consciousness while they were still chased by the fluorescent slug, already having enough problems to deal with as it were.

And just as Obi-Wan was thinking that the exit of the tunnel they were presently leaving seemed somewhat familiar, the head of Godzilla popped into view, teeth and all. Swerving the not-bongo around in a desperate attempt to avoid being crushed by thousands of sharp teeth, they managed to narrowly escape their untimely demise. Their pursuer was not so lucky and ended up as dessert for Godzilla (the gooberfish it had devoured earlier had been the hors d'oeuvre).

Being a bit distracted by all the dangerous sea-life trying to eat them, Obi-Wan totally didn't expect what happened next.

With a gleeful smile all over his face, his joy clearly reflected in his eyes and a satisfied tone in his voice, Qui-Gon stated: "There is always a bigger fish!"

Failing to see how these circumstances differed from the ones earlier so that his Master's favourite bit of wisdom was suddenly 'applicable to the situation', Obi-Wan was seriously considering banging his head repeatedly against the controls if it weren't for the danger of crashing against a wall of rocks or maybe yet another 'bigger fish' showing up and trying to eat them.

With a little prodding through the Force, Obi-Wan got Jar Jar out of his Qui-Gon-induced coma. Slowly, the Gungan was coming back around, although Obi-Wan certainly hadn't intended for him to be awake so soon. As he looked to where his Master was pointing as he told him to head for some outcropping or other, his suspicion that they had been going around in a huge circle was affirmed. That 'outcropping' they were aiming for was exactly the same round and even tunnel they had passed twice already. Small wonder they had encountered Godzilla twice, as well, if they were passing the same spot again and again. But his Master's tone didn't brook any argument, so the Padawan did as he was told, hoping that 'the Force' (as Qui-Gon usually titled his terrible sense of direction) would eventually lead them to Theed…

oOo

On the surface of Naboo, a huge army of battle droids was nearing Theed, the capital city of Naboo, and by default also the palace where Queen Amidala was standing at a ceiling-high window, staring out at her beautiful city being invaded. Momentarily, a sad expression crossed her face before she schooled her features back into an unreadable expression – it was one of her favourite expressions, she thought it gave her an aura of maturity and mystery.

Outside, the droids were advancing, and the viceroy of the Trade Federation had just arrived on the huge plaza in front of the palace.

Then, with an audible sigh, she remembered her duties as a queen and called to her servants to carry her back to her quarters - she was incapable of walking in that extremely stiff dress – where she would have to exchange this ridiculously elaborate gown for another one which was just as ridiculously elaborate. It was the least she could do for her people. And it certainly wouldn't do to wear the same thing for any extended period of time.

oOo

Not very much later, a commander of the battle droids informed the leaders of the Trade Federation: "Viceroy, we have captured the Queen."

"Ah, Victory." The viceroy sighed.

His assistant dared to remark: "Um, viceroy, the name's Victoria, and Victoria is Naboo's former Queen who has been replaced by Queen Amidala a few months ago. You talked to her earlier today, remember?"

At first, Nute Gunray confusedly blinked a few times before he remembered. "Ah, yes! Of course! I had wondered when Victoria had grown so young and pale. I had completely forgotten about this new Queen."

And with that, he proceeded through _his_ new city, the assistant following in his wake, worriedly shaking his head.

oOo

Meanwhile, Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan and Jar Jar were finally arriving in Theed.

Obi-Wan was glad that they had _somehow_ managed to find their way, though they had certainly never come near the planet core. It was doubtful that their tiny craft would have been able to deal with lava, anyway.

"Dis'n loverly!" Jar Jar remarked upon seeing the impressive city that spoke of a rich culture and wealthy citizens. Neither of the Jedi could disagree with that.

They had arrived in the middle of some kind of river or elongated lake that was in the middle of the city. Obi-Wan immediately disabled the shields that kept out the water, desperate for some fresh air that didn't reek of perfume. Damn the Trade Federation and their anti-Jedi weapons…

At once Qui-Gon stood up although they were still in the middle of the water and he couldn't possibly go anywhere without getting wet. Obi-Wan feared that his Master would jump into the water, which would require that he follow his Master's lead. But fortunately, Qui-Gon just wanted to stretch his long legs which had been cramped into the back of the not-bongo.

oOo

In the palace, the Queen, her trusted advisor, Sio Bibble, and half a dozen of her handmaidens along with Captain Panaka were accompanied by the viceroy, his assistant and a bunch of battle droids.

Queen Amidala wasn't wearing her red gown anymore but a huge black monstrosity complete with scary black bird nesting on the top of her head. She had changed her attire in record time, considering that it looked very complicated to put on and the hairdo alone had probably taken three people two hours to do. She looked somewhat different than just moments before, but the change was rather subtle, the difference in height and the discrepancy in appearance barely noticeable.

"How will you explain this invasion to the senate?" Sio Bibble demanded.

"The Queen and I will sign a treaty that will legitimize out occupation here. I have assurances it will be ratified by the senate," the viceroy informed him with no small amount of satisfaction in his voice. He smirked self-sufficiently. Lord Sidious' plan was really good. It was working out perfectly so far.

Until the Queen said in a flat, monotone voice: "I will not cooperate."

Aside from the fact that this would deprive her of any chance to get rid of the Trade Federation, she didn't have the authority to sign anything, seeing as she was just a handmaiden dressed up as the queen, with the real queen walking a few paces behind her, dressed up as a handmaiden. And the real queen wouldn't be very pleased if her decoy would sign that treaty. It would make her look weak and uncool in front of all the eligible princes of the galaxy, and she had already thrown her eyes on a certain young prince from Alderaan who went by the name of Bail Organa.

"Now, now, Your Highness," the viceroy chided. "In time, your people's suffering will persuade you to see our point of view. You see, we will do a lot of terrible things to them. In fact, we will do all the terrible things to them that you threatened us with not too long ago, if I remember correctly. We will reduce their pocket money, we will establish a curfew that will see everyone to bed by ten and all the series on TV will be cancelled until further notice. See how your people likes you after watching commercials for a week!"

Turning to one of the droids that had been painted yellow, he said: "Commander!"

"Yes, sir?"

"Process them," he ordered.

"Captain, take them to Camp 4," the commander commanded.

"Roger, Roger."

The droid made a motion with his gun, making clear that the Queen and her retinue were to follow, and marched off.

oOo

Edited on 26th December, 2010


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Disclaimer: I am Father Christmas and I'm going to give them to myself for Christmas? No? It was worth a try...

oOo

Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan and Jar Jar had just disembarked their submarine and were now standing somewhat aimlessly in the middle of a small courtyard with no idea where to look for the queen. Obi-Wan was itching to get going because he felt there wasn't much time to find the queen before she was to be taken away. But it was rather impossible to go ahead and lead the way when one was supposed to walk two steps _behind_ his Master, who didn't show any signs of setting out anytime soon.

Qui-Gon was still standing there, glancing this way and that, obviously undecided in which direction to go.

"Master, I have a bad…" Just catching himself in time before he prompted another lecture, Obi-Wan quickly corrected himself: "Master, I think we should hurry a bit."

Then, as an afterthought to further convince his Master to get going, he added: "It would be most impolite to keep the queen waitimg."

Absently, Qui-Gon nodded, staring pensively at Jar Jar. Obi-Wan's bad feeling he had almost voiced just moments ago increased. And not without reason, as it turned out.

"Jar Jar will lead us through the city," Qui-Gon declared suddenly.

"What, mesa?" Jar Jar gaped at him, mouth hanging open from surprise.

"What, him?" Obi-Wan sounded just as surprised, though it didn't show quite as openly on his face. Again he could barely resist the urge to bang his head against something solid.

"Of course he will. I expressly told you in the Gungan council chamber that we will need him for navigation."

Even as a usually very obedient Padawan, Obi-Wan couldn't leave that unchallenged.

"But Master, he clearly has no idea where to go. Why should he lead the way?"

"Yes, why mesa?" Jar Jar asked, just as confused about Qui-Gon's decision as Obi-Wan.

Qui-Gon gave his apprentice an astonished glance. He wasn't used to such open criticism coming from his Padawan.

"His guess is as good as ours, maybe even better. You know, simple creatures often have a subconscious connection to the Living Force without being Force sensitive. They often perceive its will more clearly than people who rely too much on their intellect and think too logically." At that, he gave Obi-Wan a pointed stare. "It's usually called 'instinct', I believe."

_I think it's called arbitrariness. Why did I get the loony Master again?_ Obi-Wan almost rolled his eyes.

Jar Jar looked at him, seeming somewhat lost. But as Qui-Gon gave him an encouraging nod, he breathed in deeply, then decisively turned into the completely wrong direction and set off at a brisk pace.

"Yousa follow me now, okeyday?" he said, looking back over his shoulder.

Qui-Gon seemed content to just follow wherever his latest project was leading him.

_Well, I guess if we follow him just long enough, he will eventually lead us to the queen. By walking around at random, we're bound to get _everywhere_ in time._ Obi-Wan shrugged and then caught up with his Master. _I just hope this doesn't take too long…_

oOo

Twenty minutes later, Obi-Wan finally lost his patience. This was the third time they had ended up in this particular janitor's closet, and the Padawan didn't intend to _ever_ see it again.

So when Jar Jar was about to turn into the same hallway they had gone down the last two times, he reached out with the Force to give the Gungan's mind a little nudge. It was not too hard to do without his Master noticing. In fact, the hardest thing to do was to find out exactly _how_ Jar Jar made his decisions, or if he even thought at all.

Sending just the slightest bit of a Force suggestion to their 'navigator' was sufficient to make him turn around abruptly and walking down another hallway. Finally, the Jedi and their companion were walking into the general direction of the palace.

Repeating this performance at a few more intersections, they ultimately found themselves sneaking onto a balcony that was spanning a street where several droids were escorting some brightly dressed women walking behind a huge black gown. This must be the queen and her entourage, Obi-Wan decided after a hasty glance at the prisoners.

Qui-Gon had obviously reached the same conclusion.

"There, you see? Didn't I tell you that Jar Jar would lead us to the Queen? You have to trust in the Living Force, my young Padawan," Qui-Gon whispered so as not to be detected by the battle droids.

Deciding that now was not the time to give himself a severe headache from banging his head against the wall, either, Obi-Wan took out his lightsaber and threw his Master a questioning glance.

_Shall we?_ He asked with his eyes.

Qui-Gon gave him an almost imperceptible nod while also unclipping his lightsaber from his belt.

As the first droids were arriving below their walkway, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan dropped down gracefully, followed rather less gracefully by Jar Jar who slipped and dangled from the balustrade, kicking and squirming.

While the Jedi made short work of the battle droids, the prisoners were staring at them, dumbstruck. After he had disassembled all the battle droids in his reach, Qui-Gon still found two of them standing off to one side just looking dumb and not doing anything.

_Great, more faulty droids_ he thought as with a flick of his wrist he sent a powerful Force wave in their direction. But instead of dying like every self-respecting droid should – by disassembling into a smoldering heap of junk and metal scrap – they crumpled to the floor, groaning loudly.

Just as Qui-Gon was turning away to address the Queen, one droid kicked the other's shin and silently told it off: "I know that our part was to play dead in case of a rescue attempt, but you don't have to be all _that_ convincing. You're a droid, for goodness sake, not some kind of third-class actor. Droids don't _groan_! Just look dead, alright?"

The other droid – who actually went by the name of Roger, by the way – threw his colleague a withering glance but said nothing, as dead droids weren't supposed to speak, either. Silently, both reflected on the incredible luck they had had for being chosen to report back to the viceroy, thus not being required to take part in the actual fighting.

Meanwhile, Obi-Wan was taking care of a few more battle droids, easily slicing through their armoured plating.

His Master was taking care of the Queen and her entourage. With a polite nod, he calmly advised the young Queen: "We should leave the street, Your Highness."

At once, Sio Bibble ushered the Queen off to the side where Qui-Gon indicated a concealed alleyway as their route of escape. Dutifully, a bunch of handmaidens followed. Captain Panaka ordered the other pilots that had been accompanying their queen to get the weapons of the battle droids the Jedi had so neatly disposed of.

"Yousa guys bombad!" Jar Jar declared, though it was not clear if he meant the fighting skills of the Jedi or if he was impressed by the way the pilots picked up the guns of their fallen enemies. It was probably the pilots, as he was directly looking at them, admiring their extremely elegant way of relieving their dysfunctional adversaries of their weapons.

Obi-Wan stayed back to make sure that they were not followed while everyone else disappeared into the alley.

"We're ambassadors for the supreme chancellor," Qui-Gon told the Queen.

"Your negotiations seemed to have failed, Ambassador," Sio Bibble immediately criticized.

Obi-Wan wondered who else wanted to compete with him in stating the obvious. That was until he rounded the corner and for the first time got a proper look at the Queen. Then he thought it was not the negotiations but his eyesight that had failed.

While he was walking towards his Master to stand the traditional step behind and to the side of his teacher, he couldn't help but turn his head to stare at Queen Amidala… and promptly walked into a wall.

Feeling more than slightly stupid and still a bit dazed, he looked to the Queen again. The he blinked unbelievingly a few times before returning his gaze to her.

She was frightening to behold.

This so-called "Queen" was no more a woman than Master Yoda was capable of talking forwards. In fact, "she" was almost as tall as Qui-Gon, towering over all the handmaidens and a certain Padawan. He was also easily twice as broad as the young Jedi, and beneath the many layers of silken fabric there were some impressively bulging muscles. The bizarre make-up couldn't quite hide the strong, square jaw, and Obi-Wan figured that these huge hands and thick arms could easily throw him halfway across the courtyard.

Everything about this fake Queen practically screamed "bodyguard". Under the given circumstances, Obi-Wan thought it wise of the Queen to protect herself like that, though maybe she should have been a tiny bit less obvious about it.

Finally reigning in his astonishment, Obi-Wan tried to catch up with the conversation. He genuinely admired his Master's ability to stay absolutely calm when his Padawan didn't trust himself to even open his mouth for fear of bursting out laughing. In fact – aside from being in awe of Qui-Gon's self-control - his whole concentration was focused on keeping a straight face, and so he had no idea what everyone was talking about.

Only when Qui-Gon asked "Do you have transports?" did Obi-Wan's wandering thoughts return to the much-cited 'here and now'.

Captain Panaka pointed in the direction they had been heading anyway. "In the main hangar. This way!" he said.

And with that, he completely shattered Obi-Wan's hard-won composure again. The Padawan was biting on his tongue to refrain from making a sarcastic comment along the lines of how it was really mindboggling that there were actual _transports_ in the _main hangar_. Surely they wouldn't have thought of that all by themselves. But he didn't have much time to get his mirth under control because everyone was hurrying off towards the main hangar, leaving it to the Padawan to catch up with them.

oOo

Captain Panaka was in a particularly bad mood today. Not only was he not deemed important enough to get a proper first name, his home planet was also currently being invaded by the droid army of the Trade Federation. And as if that was still not enough, now _he_ had been picked as leading security for the queen, today of all days. That was the least favourite part of his job: constantly trailing after the Queen and her numerous handmaidens, listening to their continuous chattering and being subject to all those embarrassing remarks about his apparently noteworthy backside.

But soon he learned that this day could get a lot worse. First being apprehended by a bunch of spindly droids, then enduring the shame of getting rescued by two of these so-called Jedi who wore robes that were far too huge for them and smelt even more piercingly florid than all the handmaidens put together made sure that the captain's mood didn't get any better.

And although the Jedi proved quite efficient in disposing of all these annoying droids, at least the younger one was, in Panaka's opinion, a blundering fool, barely better than the ungainly Gungan they had in tow.

"Get their weapons!" he ordered the other pilots. At least they wouldn't be dependent on the Jedi if they had their own weapons. At least not as much. Panaka wasn't especially delighted at the prospect of his life (or at least his freedom) in the hands of these Jedi. And as if to prove Panaka's point, the young man who had been fighting droids rather gracefully only moments before walked straight into a wall. Panaka couldn't quite suppress a snort, but thankfully everyone was too preoccupied to notice.

"We're ambassadors for the supreme chancellor," the older Jedi said as soon as they were in a concealed corner.

"Your negotiations seem to have failed, Ambassador." Sio Bibble said with as much contempt in his voice as Captain Panaka felt. These ambassadors must have done a really great job if the only thing they had managed with their negotiations was to get Naboo invaded.

"The negotiations never took place. It's urgent that we make contact with the Republic," the Jedi Master said.

"They've knocked out all our communications," Panaka informed him. "Otherwise, we _obviously _would have called the Police already. The Galactic Police, of course, who deals with all kinds of invasions, illegal armies and big-time meanies as well as all those criminal people who exceed the speeding limit in hyperspace. They are the nastiest of all the gangsters. But as I said, we can't even phone the Alderaanian prince the Queen has a crush on. And she usually calls him five to six times a day. She gets really cranky when she can't phone Bail, you know? And that qualifies as a national disaster; she may start ordering people beheaded soon. You don't want to get on her wrong side when she's in one of her moods."

Quickly glancing over to Queen Amidala, the real one, to judge her frame of mind, he noticed that the Jedi Padawan was staring at Queen Amidala, the fake one, almost gaping open-mouthed. And even though the Captain could completely understand the young man's bewilderment at the obviousness of the disguise, he couldn't help but gloat a bit to have surprised the allegedly unflappable Jedi.

Qui-Gon only looked at Panaka a bit askance, then asked: "Do you have transports?"

Panaka was sorely tempted to tell him that yes, they had transports, and these transports were currently located in the small janitor's closet that Obi-Wan knew only too well by now.

But then he looked at the Queen – the _real_ Queen, not that embarrassing excuse of an authentic decoy that was presently dressed as the Queen – and realized that his remark about her being in a bad mood had not been phony.

So he said in a brusque but not overly insolent tone: "In the main hangar. This way!"

And with that, they marched off towards said main hangar.

oOo

Edited on 27th December, 2010


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Disclaimer: I can't think of anything witty right now, so you'll just have to believe me if I say the usual boring thing: NO! I don't own anything.

oOo

"There are too many of them," Captain Panaka sighed. But he didn't refer to the battle droids. Maybe they could get the young Jedi to dispose of them now that he had apparently recovered from his shock of seeing Hanké dressed up as Queen – a sight that had already shocked many of the more gentle souls visiting the Palace of Naboo. No, that wouldn't be a problem. But as the Captain assessed the situation, he realized that the whole group would sooner or later go to Coruscant, which meant that they would have to take at least six of the handmaidens with them. That was definitely at least five and a half too many for Panaka.

But the Jedi Master interrupted Panaka's train of thought.

"That won't be a problem," he dismissed the Captain's concern. Qui-Gon thought that Panaka needn't worry about all these handmaidens bothering him, experience had taught the Jedi Master that they would probably all flock around his Padawan in no time.

Then turning towards the Queen, the Jedi Master said: "Your Highness, under the circumstances, I suggest you come to Coruscant with us."

"Thank you, Ambassador, but my place is with my people," the "Queen" spoke in a terribly squeaky falsetto voice that sounded strained as nature had clearly intended it to be a deep basso one instead. The worst thing was that at the same time, she spoke in a droning monotone voice. The combination was sure to give anyone a headache in no time.

Once again, Obi-Wan had to admire his Master's incredible self-control as Qui-Gon calmly answered without missing a beat: "They will kill you if you stay."

"They wouldn't dare!" Sio Bibble insisted.

"They need her to sign a treaty to make this invasion legal. They can't afford to kill her," Captain Panaka added.

Qui-Gon disagreed. "Of course they can afford to kill her. Have you seen their spaceship? They have _lots _of money. At least this much." And with that, he started opening and closing his hands in front of Panaka's face, flashing all of his ten fingers to illustrate just how much lots of money was, rather like a small child would do to demonstrate any amount bigger than three.

"And do you know how much a bounty hunter charges for disposing of someone? Certainly not more than this!" To make his point clear, he flashed his fingers three times.

Obi-Wan was blushing furiously by now, embarrassed by his Master's childish way of handling huge figures. Up to this point, Obi-Wan had been sure that his Master knew how to properly evaluate huge numbers. Why, he had only done so yesterday! But presumably, Qui-Gon had once again decided to live in the moment, dismissing everything he had learned about numbers in the past. In his opinion, counting was probably overrated, anyways, and most of his pathetic life-forms couldn't count any further than 3.

"So you see, they could easily have her killed, and they definitely can afford it. And if they don't want to hire some assassin, they could use their very own droid army for that," Qui-Gon persisted. Then, turning to the would-be queen, he said: "There is something else behind all this, your Highness. Here's no logic in the Trade Federation's move here."

Hearing this, Obi-Wan's head jerked up. Was his Master actually thinking about the _logic_ of their situation? Maybe his student could get him to see the advantages of logical thinking yet…

But Qui-Gon's next sentence destroyed all of Obi-Wan's hopes of finally getting his Master to join the logical side of the Force. "My feelings tell me they will destroy you."

"Our only hope is for the senate to side with us. Darth Sidious… erm I mean Senator Palpatine will need your help!" Sio Bibble implored.

The speed with which he changed his opinion from getting the Queen to stay to getting her to leave clearly marked the man an average politician in Obi-Wan's eyes. In the Padawan's experience, most politicians would simply take on the opinion the majority of the people surrounding them held.

And what had that remark been about someone called Darth Something?

But before Obi-Wan got the chance to further inquire, he was distracted by the "Queen's" shrill yet monotone voice: "Either choice presents great danger… to us all." She finished, addressing her handmaidens. No, not the handmaidens, but one handmaiden in particular, Obi-Wan noticed.

"We are brave, Your Highness," was the handmaiden's answer.

_Well, this is a hint if I ever heard one_, Obi-Wan thought. This young woman was most likely the real Queen, giving her not-so-well-chosen decoy some not-so-well-concealed instructions.

"If you are to leave, Your Highness, it must be now," Qui-Gon urged.

Clearly, the longer they stayed here – which was _in the middle of a rather frequented hallway_, for Force's sake – the greater the danger of being discovered by the Trade Federation.

"Then I will plead our case to the senate," the Queen finally agreed. "Be careful, Governor."

They marched into the hangar, with the two Jedi in front. In a corner, some pilots were sitting huddled together on the ground, surrounded by droids.

"We'll need to free those pilots so that they can die a meaningless death later on in one of the exploding starfighters. The climactic battle wouldn't look half as dangerous if some poor guys' starfighters didn't blow up," Panaka said. He was about to aim his machine gun at the droids (and probably shoot half of his colleagues in his attempt to free them because his gun was set on rapid fire) when Obi-Wan put a hand on his forearm.

"I'll deal with that," the Padawan said confidently, striding towards the group of battle droids. The Captain sent a disdainful look after him.

Meanwhile, Qui-Gon was nearing one of the yellow-painted droids. When he was barely a meter away from it and about to run straight into it with his next step, it raised its hand and ordered the advancing party of Jedi, Queen and handmaidens to stop.

"I'm ambassador to the supreme chancellor," Qui-Gon immediately answered the droid's challenge.

Obi-Wan didn't think that pulling rank on these droids would accomplish much; pulling lightsabers would definitely work a lot better.

"I'm taking these people to Coruscant."

_Or_ telling the enemy exactly what their plans were… But not even Obi-Wan had anticipated just how dumb these droids were.

"Where are you taking them?" the droid in command asked.

"To Coruscant!" Qui-Gon replied.

"Coruscant ? Uh, that doesn't compute," a slightly bewildered droid answered.

Its galactic geography program clearly was in desperate need of an update if it didn't know the capital planet of most of the Galaxy.

Not even realizing its embarrassing lack of knowledge, the droid decided after some deliberation: "Uh, wait. Uh, you're under arrest."

Great, now it was stammering, too! Next it would probably start to have real _thoughts_ or _feelings_, as if it weren't just a few computer parts wired together.

But Qui-Gon abruptly stopped the character evolvement of this particular droid by suddenly springing into action and neatly cleaving it in half with his lightsaber. This was the cue for his Padawan to dismantle the droids still guarding the pilots while Qui-Gon ushered everyone on board.

"Come on! Move!" he ordered.

There were still a few more droids shooting around the hangar haphazardly, but apparently their fighting skills were just as abysmal as their geographical knowledge. Although there were many easy targets (such as the pilots still sitting on the ground somewhere or the handmaidens running around hysterically) the droids only fired when they were sure not to hit anything more alive than a wall or maybe the floor. Unsurprisingly, they were not a huge challenge for the two Jedi.

Most of the droids had been destroyed, but the now freed pilots made no move to get up from the ground. Realizing that their backsides had been glued to the floor, Obi-Wan – who really got a strange feeling from using it in such an unconventional way - used the Force to unstick the bottoms of their pants from the marble floor.

"Go!" he shouted to get the pilots moving. As soon as they realized that they had been freed, the pilots stood up and rushed towards the ship while Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan took care of the remaining droids.

That was when Obi-Wan's bond with Qui-Gon suddenly flared to life and his Master mentally communicated: _Just out of purely scientific curiosity, do you think that the legs of these droids would go on walking if their upper body was removed?_

Although Obi-Wan couldn't help but wonder where his Master got these ideas from, his own curiosity was piqued and – purely for scientific purposes, of course – he immediately bisected the droid standing right behind him, watching in amusement as the legs indeed marched on, even without a head to guide them.

When no more droids were left for further fun experiments, they all boarded the silver space ship they had chosen for their escape. Just a few seconds later, their sleek ship took off towards the blue sky of Naboo.

oOo

Obi-Wan was slowly making his way towards the cockpit, a step behind his Master, when they encountered Jar Jar who was bending over some kind of important-looking control panel near the hyperdrive generator of their ship.

Qui-Gon walked on, oblivious, but Obi-Wan noticed that the Gungan was staring at a huge red button that had "DANGER! Self-destruction!" written all over it, mesmerized by its red glow. Slowly, the Gungan lifted a hand, anticipation shining on his face. Huge, red glowing buttons had always been a weakness of his. He could never resist the urge to push them. And although that was the way he had blown up the heyblibber of the Gungan boss, clearly he hadn't learned from the experience.

At the last moment, his arm was yanked back by a somewhat exasperate Jedi Padawan.

"Please try not to randomly push buttons, especially not if they are red and glowing," Obi-Wan admonished the dim-witted creature who probably hadn't even realized how close he had gotten to destroying the hyperdrive and possibly the whole space ship along with it.

Which was not so bad as Obi-Wan preferred an ignorant Gungan over a panic-stricken one any day.

Spotting a room that only contained astromech-droids and thinking that Jar Jar couldn't do too much damage in there, Obi-Wan gently directed him into that room and then firmly told him: "Now, stay here and keep out of trouble. Do NOT push any buttons, red or otherwise."

With that, he closed the door, hoping that the Gungan would keep out of the way for some time.

oOo

Qui-Gon had already arrived in the cockpit and was joined there by his Padawan just as they exited Naboo's atmosphere.

"There's the blockade," the pilot informed them just as said blockade came into view.

"Aww, it's still there, just where we left it," Qui-Gon said.

_Of course it's still there, where should it have wandered off to?_ Obi-Wan thought. _Though this would probably be much easier if it had left for some inexplicable reason._

But the Padawan needn't have worried as most of the ships were only there for show and couldn't actually do anything. Only one of the numerous battle stations opened fire as they tried to get through the blockade.

And although this should have made escape that much easier, the Padawan hadn't counted on the exceptional flying skills of Naboo's best pilots. Obviously they had never gotten past the first lesson at flying school, that being "How to fly straight ahead to make an easy target for any nearby battle ships with malicious intent". Unsurprisingly, they were hit, although it took quite a few shots, making Obi-Wan wonder if the one aiming the shots had ever reached the lesson termed "How to successfully hit easy targets that fly straight ahead (no evasive moves) in case of an illegal blockade around a peaceful planet that doesn't have its space ships equipped with guns and whose pilots would never let the experienced Jedi fly their precious ship, even though they would be much better suited to avoid the laser fire aimed at their ship".

"The shield generator's been hit!" the pilot exclaimed as alarms started to shrill all around the spaceship. But instead of _doing_ something about it, he just went on flying straight ahead.

When Obi-Wan stepped forward to reluctantly offer his piloting skills – even though he was an able pilot, there was still Qui-Gon, the notorious backseat driver, and the current pilot of the ship who would certainly _never _let him fly the way he planned to – his Master gave him a pointed look accompanied by a slight shake of his head.

As the one manning the guns on the battle ship was clearly as unable to hit their ship on purpose as the pilot of their ship was capable of flying anywhere but straight ahead, Obi-Wan took a step back again and instead focused his attention on a small round screen that showed the astromech droids trying to undo the damage of the single shot their ship had taken.

The Padawan figured that nothing of real importance had been hit as the shot had only blasted away part of the ship's hull and the damage was probably only superficial and mostly of a cosmetic nature.

But it seemed that the person operating the guns on the Trade Federation's battle station was much more apt at shooting droids trying to fix the damage that at shooting ships and was slowly obliterating the small machines, though why anyone would aim at the droids who were a much smaller target than the ship was beyond Obi-Wan.

"We're losing droids fast," he said nonetheless.

Qui-Gon was frowning worriedly but said nothing.

Captain Panaka however couldn't refrain from stating: "If we can't get the shield generator fixed, we'll be sitting ducks."

Right at that moment, yet another little droid was shot.

"The shields are gone." The pilot was clearly agitated. Still, Obi-Wan thought that they wouldn't have any more difficulties if they just started flying in a less straightforward manner.

But that that still wasn't deemed necessary as just seconds later, the last remaining astromech droid finally managed to plug something back in, and all their systems were online again. He had just done the exact same thing Obi-Wan had done when the Gungan transport-thingy (he still refused to believe that the Gungan boss had meant _this_ thing when he had said they would be given a bongo) had given up its will to live. This was in fact a widely recognized method of first aid for vehicles on the brink of death.

"The power's back!" said the astounded pilot. "That little droid did it. He bypassed the main power drive. Deflector shields up at maximum."

_Finally_ they flew past the barrier of battle stations and prepared their jump through hyperspace. Or at least that's what everyone expected, until one of the numerous screens in the cockpit started glowing alarmingly red.

"There's not enough power to get us to Coruscant. The hyperdrive is leaking," the pilot breached the bad news.

For a second, Obi-Wan wondered _how_ they had managed to get their hyperdrive damaged when the only thing that had been hit was the surface of their right wing, which was about as far away from the hyperdrive generator as you could get. But then he remembered the way Jar Jar had looked at that red button earlier. He _knew_ he should have kept an eye on the Gungan instead of trusting a simple _door_ to keep this disaster waiting to happen from getting into trouble. And now Jar Jar had probably completely smashed their main engine because he had pushed the self-destruct-button after all. Luckily the mode of self-destruct was one of quietly leaking power instead of an imminent huge explosion.

They wouldn't get much further, so Obi-Wan applied himself to the task of finding a planet in the vicinity that they could possibly reach with their limping ship.

Obviously, Qui-Gon for once agreed with his apprentice: "We'll have to land somewhere to refuel and repair the ship."

A sensible decision, in Obi-Wan's opinion... but wait, had his Master just said they needed to _refuel_ their ship? That would mean that there hadn't been enough fuel to get them to Coruscant in the first place! Why would the pilots pick the one ship on the whole of Naboo that was not refuelled after it had been in use?

But he refrained from commenting. Instead, he did a bit of research to find some hospitable, republic-friendly planet they could reach. Personally, he would prefer somewhere with a pleasant climate, lots of nice, non-hostile people and if at all possible some nice scenery. Not that he got to choose very often, and as a Jedi he would usually go where he was needed, but now he had a choice of some agreeable planets.

First wanting to ask his Master's opinion on whatever suggestion he made without distracting the pilots, he used their bond: _Master, let's go to this planet. It's called Florida, there are lots of beautiful beaches, the weather is sunny and pleasant and getting our ship repaired there won't be a problem. There probably won't be any danger to our mission, as well, since that planet is a well-known residence for retired citizens of the Republic as well as many former senators and therefore the senate doesn't shirk expenses to keep it nice and safe. _

He had not expected his Master's instant dismissal of this suggestion: _No, right now it's spring break ant the whole planet is swamped with partying students. Not exactly a good idea, don't you think?_

_I see._ Obi-Wan conceded. _Well, then how about this one? Its name is Scotland. The weather is probably neither as warm nor as sunny, but this planet has a kind of rugged charm to it. The people there are supposed to be really nice, too, and I think we could both easily pass as locals. _

Still, Qui-Gon didn't agree. _Haven't you heard about the huge monster that's supposed to live there? I don't think the Council would be ecstatic if we managed to get the Queen eaten. What else do you have?_

_There's another planet, France. It's renowned for its exquisite cuisine and…_

His Master interrupted him. _Do you speak a single word of their language? Well, it doesn't matter, anyway, since we won't go there. I don't like baguette, and I have a phobia of frogs._

Any other planet Obi-Wan suggested was dismissed in a similar manner. Soon, the only planet left, located at the outer limit of the reach of their ship, was an inhospitable desert planet. Because it was their last available option, Obi-Wan said aloud: "Here, Master. Tatooine. It's small, out of the way, poor. The Trade Federation has no presence there." _And it's the only option you haven't already dismissed, Master. _That were the only positive things the Padawan could say about that planet while still refraining from lying. He didn't really want to go there. In fact, he had a very, _very_ bad feeling about this, the worst feeling yet to be exact.

These ominous feelings were quickly banished from Obi-Wan's mind, though, when Captain Panaka asked: "How can you be sure?"

It was a bit irritating that the Captain had so far doubted every single one of the Jedi's decisions, constantly criticizing them, but he had yet to make a good suggestion himself.

Before Obi-Wan could answer, though, Qui-Gon explained: "It's controlled by the Hutts."

Obi-Wan would rather face all the drunk students, mysterious monsters and baguette-eating frogs the Galaxy could throw at him than one single Hutt, but right now his Master would ignore any remark coming from his apprentice, anyway, so it was no use speaking his mind, especially when the only thing he would get for doing it was another snide comment from Panaka.

This way, his Master was the one who had to deal with an irate Captain Panaka. "You can't take Her Royal Highness there. The Hutts are gangsters. If they discover her-"

"It would be no different than landing on a system controlled by the Federation, except that the Hutts aren't looking for her, which gives us the advantage," Qui-Gon cut him off.

And with that it was settled: they would be going to Tatooine, the last planet in the whole Galaxy that Obi-Wan wanted to visit.

oOo

Edited on 29th December, 2010


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Disclaimer: I don't own Tatooine (and honestly I wouldn't want to), I don't own Tom Cruise (Scientology already does that) and I don't own Wookipedia (though I find it incredibly amusing). And I don't own all the rest, of course.

oOo

In the meantime, the Viceroy back at the droid control ship had to explain their rather awkward situation to the evil Sith Lord.

"And Queen Amidala, has she signed the treaty?" the Sith Lord, easily recognizable by the hood drawn over his face almost down to his chin, inquired.

The Viceroy looked rather at unease when he answered: "She has disappeared, my lord. Evidence suggests that she is in fact the evil Witch of the North and is currently buried under a flying house. We found her feet sticking out from beneath said flying house, all rolled up, but effortlessly identifiable by the striped stockings."

The Sith Lord didn't say anything. The viceroy's assistant whispered something in his superior's ear.

Nute Gunray instantly turned a sickly pale green colour and then continued: "Or maybe she was on the single Naboo cruiser that got past the blockade. We are still making enquiries which. The only thing we can say for sure is that she is gone. Whether she's lying under some flying house, dead, or is running around the Galaxy, very much alive and a huge threat to your plans, we don't know yet."

"I want that treaty signed," The Sith Lord insisted, and he would have sounded almost like a petulant child if not for the cold threat distinctly audible in his raspy voice.

The Viceroy tried to reason with him: "My lord, it's impossible to locate the ship. Only Tom Cruise could do that, seeing as impossible missions are his speciality. It's out of our range. It's not like we have a huge and technologically highly advanced space station available to track a tiny vessel that has been badly damaged and is limping towards some neighbouring systems – which they are probably not, as we didn't even properly hit them earlier and they should be already halfway to Coruscant by now. Surely they wouldn't be so stupid as to stay in the vicinity or blast their own hyperdrive into pieces."

Unimpressed, the hologram of Palpatine Sidious replied: "Not for a Sith – although I have to make clear that Tom Cruise is not, I repeat, IS NOT a Sith Lord. Sure he's kind of creepy and all, but he's a long way from being such an awesome and fear-inspiring creature of the Dark as I am."

At that moment, another Sith stepped into the hologram, once again easily identified by his hood and the angry glower he sent the Trade Federation leaders.

"This is my apprentice Darth Maul. He is not Tom Cruise." The striped Sith apprentice folded his arms across his chest and tried his best to look menacing – which he should damn well do, as there's a chance that the title of this episode also referred to him. "He will find your lost ship." And without saying goodbye, the two bluish forms faded away.

"This is getting out of hand!" the Viceroy said anxiously. "Now there are two of them. I just hope they don't multiply… just imagine they were like bacteria, doubling their number every hour or so. We would be up to our necks in Sith Lords in no time! I don't think that this Galaxy can take any more than two at a time, and I'm not even sure about that. These guys give me the creeps. I get the bad feeling that one day, a Sith is gonna be the death of me…"

"We should not have made this bargain," the Viceroy's advisor agreed. "Even though they gave us a huge discount, I fear we're still paying a price entirely too high… maybe we should have left our money in the savings account, they offer a steady 0.3% rate instead of galactic dominion…"

oOo

"An extremely well-put-together little droid, Your Highness. Without a doubt, it saved the ship, as well as our lives," Captain Panaka said.

He was standing in the throne room of the Naboo spaceship, right next to the only surviving astromech droid, presenting it to the Queen and a few of the inevitable handmaidens.

A few paces behind stood Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn and his Padawan, who was extremely grateful for the fact that this time, the Queen was actually played by a woman. The rather masculine Queen they had rescued before was currently standing behind the throne, dressed up as a handmaiden.

"It is to be commended. What is its number?"

_Great, now they want to commend a _droid_? Next they'll want to give a proper burial to the ones that didn't make it! _Obi-Wan thought, frowning slightly. _Given enough time, they will probably make that droid their national hero and build huge monuments of it plugging that loose wire back in._

But of course he didn't voice any of these thoughts, although his Master seemed to have caught at least some of them since he was conspicuously looking anywhere but at the Queen or the Captain… or even anyone, for that matter. In fact, he was staring at the ceiling. Obviously he also considered awarding a droid a medal rather useless.

Meanwhile, Captain Panaka ostentatiously bent down to read the droid's number, pretending that he didn't know it already. It was the one he had wanted to take back home as a souvenir because it looked just like the one that had been on _Star Wars_ the other week. Being a huge fan of the movie, he had wanted to take it with him, figuring that no one would miss such a small and comparably cheap droid.

That was why he had it renamed after the famous droid on the holonet, but now he felt more than just a bit stupid as he announced the droids number, pretending he didn't know about its famous counterpart.

"R2-D2, Your Highness."

Fortunately, neither the Jedi nor the Queen nor one of her handmaidens seemed to ever have watched the small and still rather unknown holonet show that was Panaka's favourite and so didn't recognize the name.

"Thank you, R2-D2," the Queen said in her usual droning voice.

Panaka supposed that the handmaidens playing at being queen were talking like that because it wouldn't be as obvious that the voice was not always the same. It was not easy to detect the differences when they were talking in that flat, monotone way. The Captain thought it stupid, nonetheless. _Why don't they get themselves a menacing black suit complete with helmet and a breathing apparatus to go with the voice?_ He thought. But then he shook his head, wondering where such a strange thought might have come from.

Artoo beeped happily, excited to at last receive some recognition for his work.

"Padmé! Clean this droid up as best you can! It deserves our gratitude," the Queen ordered, trying but failing to conceal a naughty smile.

Padmé walked over to Artoo obediently, but sent her decoy a silent death glare. _I am so making her pay for this later on. She knows exactly that I hate cleaning; I'll just ruin my fingernails and my pretty dress. You just wait till I'm the Queen again…_

Sabé, who was being Queen right now, savoured her momentary power. _Serves her right for making me wear all that stupid makeup and for ordering me to clean her wardrobe the other week. That ruined all of my fingernails and my pretty dress. But being Queen is great, _she decided, even though you had to put up with all the elaborate hairstyles and the heavy dresses. But then, they were all young women – well, most of them, anyway – and they could hardly deny that they secretly liked dressing up as Queen, even though they were complaining quite a bit about the traditional clothes.

Then, in her best royal manner, Sabé addressed Panaka: "Continue, Captain!"

But the Captain didn't answer; instead he threw the Jedi a less than happy look. That was Qui-Gon's cue to disclose their destination to the Queen.

"Your Highness, with your permission we're heading for a remote planet called Tatooine."

_Not that he actually bothered to ask for anyone's permission on this_ Obi-Wan thought sarcastically.

"It's a system far beyond the reach of the Trade Federation."

But as seemed to become his habit, Captain Panaka begged to differ: "I do not agree with the Jedi on this," he stated, frowning disapprovingly at Qui-Gon.

"You must trust my judgement, Your Highness," Qui-Gon said, looking at the Queen intently.

Why this should in any way convince Queen Amidala – the genuine one or the fake thing – Obi-Wan had no idea. That was until he sensed Qui-Gon reach out to the Force and send a massive Force suggestion in the general direction of the throne, effectively eliminating any individual thoughts and opinions on the matter the Queen and her entourage might have had.

_Go ahead, just mind-whammy everyone into obedience. It makes life so much easier if you don't have to make your strange decisions sound reasonable! _Obi-Wan thought, grateful that as a Jedi he was immune to that kind of influence.

He also had to admit that there was one advantage to his Master's approach: at least they could avoid a long and boring discussion about their destination.

oOo

In another part of the ship, Padmé kneeled on the floor, reluctantly cleaning Artoo.

The little droid felt distinctly uncomfortable, as the young woman was complaining incessantly under her breath: "That treacherous bitch! I can't believe she makes me clean that stupid heap of junk! Her own Queen, whom she owes allegiance! I can't believe she did that! I will _so_ take revenge for that. 'Revenge of the Queen', that sounds pretty good. I won't let her be me anytime soon. That girl is a menace, probably even The Phantom Menace. Maybe I should simply fire her and be done with it. I won't take such disrespect from my employees. And look at my pretty dress, all dirty!"

She continued scrubbing Artoo superficially (because naturally she resolved do such a bad job of cleaning _anything_ that no one would get any ideas of _ever_ ordering her to do that again), and still the litany of curses and complaints she was muttering didn't cease.

With her quiet grumbling she had already scared two of her handmaidens, Captain Panaka, a pilot and Obi-Wan away. They all had wanted to enter the room Padmé was in and had immediately turned around again when they spotted her.

Only Jar Jar seemed to be dumb enough to approach the fuming Queen, who had a reputation of beheading people for the slightest reason when she was furious.

"Hello!" the Gungan said, cautiously peeking out from behind the door. "Sorry. Husa are yousa?" he asked.

Thankfully, Padmé remembered her manners. Her mother – whom she had tried to behead in a teenage tantrum some months ago and who hadn't spoken with her daughter since – had always told her to be especially patient and polite when addressing someone who was mentally challenged, as was obviously the case with this Jar Jar creature.

"I'm Padmé," she said, keeping her answer as simple and easily comprehensible as she could. It was not the Gungan's fault that he was not exactly the fastest thinker in the Galaxy, after all, and she felt sorry for him. His child-like innocence and strange way of speaking made her smile slightly.

"Mesa Jar Jar Binks!" the Gungan introduced himself.

"You're a Gungan, aren't you?"

Jar Jar nodded vigorously, enthusiastic that _someone_ had heard of his strange people. Now, Padmé was truly curious about this unexpected companion.

"How'd you end up here with us?" she wanted to know.

"My no know. Mesa day starten pitty okeyday witda brisky morning munchen. Den boom! Getten berry scared and grabben dat Jedi and pow – mesa here." He explained. "Mesa getten berry, berry scared."

Padmé just smiled up at his, trying to puzzle together what Jar Jar had just tried to tell her.

_So first, he had a nice breakfast. That much I understood. Then, the Jedi exploded – boom – but that can't be right, the Jedi are here, so obviously they didn't explode. Maybe it was the breakfast that blew up? No, that can't be right, either. And what was that about sacred berries he kept going on about? Do Gungans worship food? Maybe these sacred berries were his breakfast… or maybe the Jedi were supposed to be his breakfast, before they exploded… I think now I'm completely confused. _

And so a very, _very_ bewildered Padmé simply smiled politely at the Gungan, not trusting herself to answer.

oOo

Some hours later, a somewhat smallish, dusty-red planet came into view.

"That's it – Tatooine," the pilot stated.

"There's a settlement," Qui-Gon added. "Land near the outskirts. We don't want to attract attention," he ordered.

It was a desolate planet: except for the occasional settlement, there were but a few farms or camps of the indigenous nomadic tribes. The landscape looked bleak, huge plains of sand dunes next to rocky cliffs, all of it barren. Not a single spot of green could be seen on the entire planet.

Obi-Wan checked the holonet for information on Tatooine.

Wookiepedia, the holonet encyclopedia, told him:

"_Tatooine is a desert planet in the __Outer Rim__. It is controlled by the __Hutts__, __Jabba the Hutt__ being the most prominent one. Its economy is mostly based on smuggling and gambling, but the demand for alcohol of any kind has also slightly increased over the past few years. Experts predict that the market for alcoholic beverages will grow even more in the next ten years or so, giving rise to many run-down cantinas sprouting in the few settlements._

_The planet is not part of the __Galactic Republic__. Due to this, many criminals such as __smugglers__ or __bounty hunters__ prefer it as their home base. _

_[…]_

_Slavery is still allowed and part of everyday life on Tatooine. The majority of the population focuses on the few bigger cities like __Mos Eisley__, __Mos Espa__ or __Anchorhead__. A small number of people live outside these settlements. They are usually __moisture farmers__, trying to scrape a living from the barren desert, but they aren't very successful. The problem with __moisture farming__ is that moisture has to be watered regularly in order to thrive, which is obviously difficult to do on a desert planet. It is generally considered one of the less brilliant decisions of the __Galactic Senate__ to fund the project "Water for Tatooine from Tatooine". Apart from these people who came from all over the __Known Galaxy__, there are a few native tribes such as the __Jawas__ or the __Sand People__. The __Jawas__ are scavengers for any kind of mechanical parts and mostly sell droids they picked up somewhere or built from whichever of the parts fit together. They are easily recognizable by their small stature which is hidden inside wide brown cloaks – not unlike the ones __Jedi__ traditionally wear – and the only thing that's showing are their glowing eyes. They are usually not a danger to anyone except droids, which they will gladly capture if they are left unattended for a few moments. _

_The second native tribe, the __Sand People__, live in the desert. They are nomads and move their settlements two to three times a year. Usually they don't come near the spaceports, as they are a very secretive people. Their religion even prohibits the exposure of skin to anyone including their own family. Scientist are still trying to find out how they manage to multiply. This sacred rule is the reason why the __Sand People__ are completely swathed in many layers of clothes and wear masks for all their life. Their lore states that their god and creator __George Lucas __has given them these sacrosanct rules some thirty years or so in the future. Nobody has yet come to understand why they stubbornly use the past tense when speaking of that future event, though. _

_[…]_

_Tatooine is famous for its fast and very dangerous __pod races__. They differ significantly from the more usual __pod races__ that exist on other planets such as __Malastare__, though. …"_

Obi-Wan decided to skip the part about pod racing, not being especially interested in that kind of sports.

"_Although the Tatooine tourist board hopes to change this as soon as possible, the planet is not exactly welcoming to visitors who are neither smugglers nor bounty hunters. Most people on Tatooine speak __Huttese__, some of them also speak or at least understand some __Basic__. The people who live on Tatooine are usually suspicious about anything even remotely associated with the __Republic__. Therefore it is advisable to bring along some __Wupiupis__, the local currency. Wupiupis can also be acquired at any bank on Tatooine, of course, but they charge much higher fees for money exchange there than on most other planets."_

Obi-Wan quickly scanned the rest of the article, but didn't find anything else that seemed interesting.

They were now quickly approaching Tatooine's surface.

oOo

Edited on 29th December, 2010


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Disclaimer: Qui-Gon doesn't own Harry Potter and Gandalf, and I don't own Qui-Gon. Which means I don't own them, either. If I did, though, I would trade them for a certain Jedi… not Qui-Gon, not Yoda, and not Mace either (I never know what to think of Mace, whether he is totally awesome or just the biggest walking joke…)

oOo

Qui-Gon slowly shook his head. "I'll better take Jar Jar with me when I go into town. He is an apt swimmer."

Obi-Wan was not exactly thrilled to hear that they would take the Gungan with them. What surprised him even more, though, was Qui-Gon's seemingly random assessment of Jar Jar.

"An apt swimmer? I rather think he will be very uncomfortable in this heat, being amphibian. I don't know if it's healthy for him to go out into the desert. Why do you want him to come along with us?" Obi-Wan asked. _And what does swimming have to do with it?_ He wondered.

"First of all, Padawan, _you_ will stay here with the Queen and her handmaidens. Someone has to protect them when I'm gone. And secondly, I think that Jar Jar is perfectly suited to come along when we swim to the nearest space port," Qui-Gon patiently explained.

"Master, this is a _desert_ planet. There's not more than a single drop of water on it. There's just tons of sand, like a huge beach without an ocean. How do you want to swim here?" Obi-Wan asked, completely confused by his Master's insistence that they would swim.

Qui-Gon gave him an indulgent smile. "You still have much to learn, my young Padawan. _Of course_ there is an ocean out there."

Blinking a few times, the Padawan tried very hard to see the ocean Qui-Gon insisted was right before their eyes. He couldn't see anything but sand, sand and some more sand, though.

Seeing his apprentice's confusion, Qui-Gon explained: "It all depends on your point of view. Remember, your focus determines your reality. There _is_ an ocean out there; you just can't see it because you look at it from the wrong point of view. Do you remember our mission to that planet with the extremely salty sea? The water there contains an unusually high concentration of salt."

Obi-Wan nodded. It had been fun floating almost weightlessly in the water, even though the taste of salt hadn't gone away for the whole mission.

"Well, it's the same thing here. Only that the water here doesn't contain high concentrations of salt but rather of sand. So you see, Tatooine is in fact not a desert planet at all." Then, after a short pause, he added for good measure: "There's always a bigger fish!"

The pilot steering the space cruiser gave Qui-Gon a pitying look. Clearly, this Jedi was nuts.

Obi-Wan, on the other hand, was already used to such lectures from his Master, though Qui-Gon never failed to amaze his student with the strange things he sometimes came up with.

If you saw it the way Qui-Gon did, there was actually a minimal amount of ocean that contained a maximum amount of sand.

_Though for normal people, this is the exact definition of a desert, _Obi-Wan thought. But then again, Qui-Gon was anything _but_ normal.

But then, Obi-Wan realized the other thing his Master had told him earlier. Qui-Gon intended to make him stay with the Queen and her handmaidens.

"Master, is it really necessary that I stay behind? What if you encounter some dark, menacing creature, like a Sith? I know that they are supposed to have vanished from the Known Galaxy about a thousand years ago, but what if they chose to return _right now_? Master, I have a bad feeling about this."

"Yes, so you have said. More than once, I might add. Still, I haven't seen any "Phantom Menace" yet. And if I remember rightly, I already told you not to centre on your anxieties and to keep your focus on the here and now, where it belongs. And don't you think that it is just a tiny bit exaggerated to resurrect the arch enemies of the Jedi just so you can come along? Don't be childish, Padawan. It would be much better if you took a look at our hyperdrive instead of whining to me." And with that, Qui-Gon shooed him out of the cockpit.

Obi-Wan took of towards the engine room. He was not happy with his Master's decision to go with just Jar Jar and Artoo for company. When left alone, Qui-Gon was prone to slightly losing his grip on reality and start seeing "Chosen Ones" everywhere. That in and of itself wouldn't be such a problem if he didn't always want to keep them.

Obi-Wan could still remember all too well the last time his Master had picked up one of these pathetic life forms that he claimed would bring 'Balance to the Force', whatever that may mean. They had been on a peacekeeping mission to a small, relatively primitive planet that was on the outer edges of the Known Galaxy. A small slightly Force-sensitive part of the population – they called themselves wizards and witches - was at war with what could be described as the Dark Side fraction of their kind.

To make it short, the mission had been a disaster. Nobody had taken the Jedi seriously because of some obscure movie they had on their local holonet, and they had no success at all with any of the two warring parties. They had managed to get the two leaders of the opposing parties together, but before anything had been agreed upon, the pale, snake-like so-called "Dark Lord" had attacked the old and already slightly senile representative of the wizarding world – who had the most impressive beard Obi-Wan had ever seen, by the way.

In all the ensuing chaos, Qui-Gon had taken hold of some poor teen who was wearing round glasses, had a strange scar on his forehead and black hair sticking out from his head in all directions, claiming that this was "the Chosen One". Ignoring the kid's confused protest, he decided that Harry – that had been his name, Obi-Wan remembered now – was to be taken to Coruscant to be trained as a Jedi – no matter that the youth had serious anger issues on top of all his other problems!

But the white-haired wizard in his colourful bathrobes didn't want to relinquish his "Chosen One", so he had a fierce shouting match with the Jedi Master. It took all of Obi-Wan's patience and diplomatic skills to get them to calm down and to convince his Master that this "Chosen One" belonged to this world and to the eccentric old wizard who was apparently the headmaster of the school the boy was attending.

Qui-Gon reluctantly left Harry behind on his home planet, seeing that the boy already had an old and slightly off-the-rocker mentor and didn't need another one, though he left his visiting card just in case Harry lost his current crazy teacher and needed a new one.

Something along these lines had also happened when they accidentally crash-landed on an even more primitive planet called Middle Earth where Qui-Gon had tried to kidnap an important member of some secret mission to destroy a gold ring in the most complicated way imaginable. Fortunately for Obi-Wan, the wizard they met _this time_ who evidently wanted to keep the small humanoid was a lot more level-headed and capable than the one before, so they were able to sort it all out without shouting at each other until everyone's throat was raw.

Unfortunately, Qui-Gon had then decided to take the wizard back with them. As he didn't have any intentions of coming along, either, Obi-Wan had to take some drastic measures. He had contacted Masters Yoda and Windu who had subsequently come to pick them up and reason with Qui-Gon, who was sulking by then because his Padawan "never lets me keep any of the Chosen Ones I find!"

Obi-Wan sighed. He just hoped that Qui-Gon would not pick up another Chosen One this time. He had done it numerous times already – bringing them along when his Padawan couldn't convince him to leave them where they found them – and they inevitably ended up in Obi-Wan's care when his Master lost interest in them. Most of the time, the Padawan could then simply send any Chosen Ones back home. They were usually quite grateful because after the first few and exciting days, most of them didn't actually want to be a Jedi – or even had the potential for it.

Taking a look at Tatooine, though, Obi-Wan had to admit that nobody would voluntarily return to their life on this oversized grain of sand.

_Then again, maybe I should be grateful that Jar Jar doesn't seem to qualify as another Chosen One, _Obi-Wan thought, slightly relieved.

With a last worried thought of his Master, Obi-Wan assessed the damage to the hyperdrive. It was completely ruined. There was nothing anyone could do to get that piece of junk running again.

At that moment, Qui-Gon entered, putting on an old, much worn poncho so that he could pass as a local farmer. His Jedi robes would give him away in seconds.

"The hyperdrive generator is gone, Master. We'll need a new one," Obi-Wan informed him.

"That'll complicate things," Qui-Gon sighed. "Be wary. I sense a disturbance in the Force," Qui-Gon warned.

_Yes, that's the bad feeling you've been ignoring so far!_ But Obi-Wan settled for saying: "I feel it also, Master."

"Don't let them send any transmissions. Aside from the fact that the Trade Federation might find us, this far out from the centre of the Galaxy the transmission fees would probably empty their whole treasury with just one call."

Obi-Wan nodded. Before he could say anything else, though, his Master left. Artoo and Jar Jar were already waiting for the Jedi Master, and as soon as he arrived, they set out towards the nearest town.

_I just hope he uses his common sense… and remembers to exchange his Republic money for the local currency instead of betting on completely unrealistic odds. Though I have to admit that he does usually succeed in what he does, somehow. _Obi-Wan thought, a worried frown on his face. _And I fervently hope that he doesn't pick up any additional pathetic life forms…_

Qui-Gon and Jar Jar were walking through the desert… excuse me, swimming through the ocean… towards Mos Espa, followed by Artoo.

"The sun doen murder to mesa skin!" Jar Jar whined.

Qui-Gon ignored him, his thoughts elsewhere. He secretly admitted that he would have expected a tiny bit more water in an ocean. _Maybe I should listen to Obi-Wan more often…_ he thought.

Just when they thought they were a safe distance from the ship and wouldn't be bothered with any additional requests by the Queen – like bringing her some local makeup or something – Captain Panaka shouted after them: "Wait!"

Qui-Gon turned around reluctantly to see the head of security and one of the handmaidens dressed in the least fancy clothes that were on board of the ship trudging after them.

As the head of security, Panaka had not been ecstatic to learn that Queen Amidala absolutely insisted on going with the Jedi.

Padmé, on the other hand, was really glad that she could order Panaka to make the Jedi take her along. Although she didn't look forward to spending the next day or so in a primitive desert town instead of her comfortable ship, she was envied by all her handmaidens. They would all have gladly come along even though it meant having to walk through the sandy waste with the sun beating down because it meant getting to spend some time with that elusive Jedi Padawan.

So Padmé was smiling to herself, considering herself extremely lucky. That is until they caught up with the Jedi Master enough for her to realize that it was not Obi-Wan but Jar Jar who accompanied Qui-Gon. But it was already too late; she couldn't back out of this anymore after she had told Panaka some ridiculous story about wanting to get to know the planet and trying to keep the Jedi Master from doing anything unreasonable. The second argument had finally convinced the Captain to let her go along, and now he was already talking to Qui-Gon.

"Her Highness commands you to take her handmaiden with you."

Realizing that her plan had backfired spectacularly, Padmé frowned at him.

Panaka was just glad that she wasn't dressed as the Queen right now, because he could see that she was really displeased and would probably start beheading people in another five minutes. _Teenagers and their mood swings!_ He thought exasperatedly._ Just two minutes ago, she would have beheaded me if I had NOT let her go…_

But Qui-Gon didn't really want to take a love-stuck teenager with him, especially if he didn't have Obi-Wan to occupy them. He was sure that the young woman would constantly interrogate him about his Padawan.

_Damn, why did I take the good-looking one?_ Qui-Gon lamented for the umpteenth time. _But then again, Obi-Wan's looks have also proven quite useful a few times already…_

"The spaceport is not going to be pleasant," he warned the handmaiden.

"The Queen wishes it," Captain Panaka insisted. "She's curious about the planet."

Qui-Gon frowned, hesitating. "This is not a good idea. Stay close to me," he said.

The corners of the handmaiden's lips dropped even further. _You are not the one I wanted to hear that from!_ she thought disgruntled. But it seemed she had dug her own grave, and now she had to follow the Jedi Master into town, and the handmaidens got the Padawan.

Grudgingly, she ambled after Qui-Gon and Jar Jar.

It took all of tree minutes for her curiosity to overcome her irritation, and she started assailing the Jedi Master with questions.

"Wow, I get not only one but two real Jedi! Uhm, I mean, the Queen does, of course. So Obi-Wan is your apprentice? What's he like?"

Somehow, Qui-Gon had known just who would be the main subject of their conversation… which was not exactly a topic he felt the need to discuss with this nosy girl.

So the only answer Padmé received was an unenthusiastic shrug: "He's all right, I guess."

After a few failed attempts to get Qui-Gon to talk about his Padawan, Padmé started asking more general questions.

"So how was your trip to Naboo?"

To her eternal surprise, Qui-Gon willingly launched into a long explanation.

"The first part was rather boring, we had nothing to do but meditate because these stupid Republic ships they assign to ambassadors don't have on-board entertainment. But once we arrived on the Trade Federation's space station, it was a lot more fun. They actually tried to kill us with _perfume_, can you believe that? Then we stowed away on the transports headed for the planet surface, but instead of landing near Theed, we ended up somewhere in the swamps. There, I picked up Jar Jar – much to Obi-Wan's chagrin, I would think. Jar Jar led us into Gunga City, where I, ah, convinced their leader to help us. He gave us a Bongo to get to Theed through the planet core. Naturally, there were a few bigger fishes, but that was to be expected, wasn't it? Eventually, we arrived in Theed, where we finally rescued you and your Queen. You already know the rest of the story."

Although Padmé was slightly confused – she had no idea what the part about bigger fishes had been about – she was also deeply impressed. Her already growing respect for the Jedi went up a notch as she tried to imagine how two humans and a Gungan had managed to get through the planet core – lava and all – in a small ceremonial drum. Padmé had read a bit about the Gungans and in one of the books, there had been a picture of a Bongo drum, the traditional Gungan instrument used for… well, obviously for making music.

They spent the rest of the way into town talking amiably. Padmé wouldn't have thought that the Jedi was such a chatterbox. He told her just about everything she asked of him, and only grew silent when the conversation turned to his Padawan. Obviously, he didn't want to feed her growing interest in the young man – which made Obi-Wan seem all the more enigmatic and, therefore, all the more interesting. But aside from that, Qui-Gon was open and talkative.

When they finally arrived in Mos Espa, Qui-Gon was in the middle of telling Padmé about Tatooine – at least what is apprentice had told him about the planet after looking it up on the holonet.

"Moisture farmers, for the most part. Some indigenous tribes and scavengers. The few spaceports like this one are havens for those that don't wish to be found," he explained.

_I wonder if any Chosen Ones live around here?_ He thought.

"Like us," Padmé added.

_What, we are Chosen Ones, too?_ Qui-Gon wondered. But the he realized that Padmé could not hear his thoughts and was most likely referring to them not wanting to be found.

"Dissen berry, berry bad," Jar Jar remarked. He felt highly uncomfortable around all the sinister people populating this spaceport.

But neither Padmé nor Qui-Gon were listening to him. In fact, the Jedi Master was whispering in Padmé's ear: "Look, Jar Jar's about to step in a dung heap. You don't want to miss that. It's the reason why I brought him along."

And just as Jar Jar indeed placed his left foot into the droppings lying in the middle of the street, they erupted into silly giggles. With an amused sparkle in their eyes, they were both watching the hapless Gungan trying to get rid of the muck.

"Oh, icky, icky goo!" he shouted, hopping on one foot and generally looking dumb and awkward.

When they arrived at some kind of market place, Qui-Gon suddenly stopped and looked around. Picking one of the houses surrounding them at random – the dwellings looked all the same and didn't even have any markings identifying them as shops – he nodded towards it.

"We'll try one of the smaller dealers," he firmly decided.

Nearing the little shop for all kinds of junk imaginable, they didn't know that all their lives were about to get a lot more complicated – well, except maybe for Qui-Gon's, which will only grow shorter as the story continues…

oOo

Edited on 30th December, 2010


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Author's note: As you will soon notice, my Huttese has become a bit rusty. So I just wrote whatever they said down in normal English, but used italics whenever they were talking in Huttese.

Disclaimer: Nah, can't think of any good disclaimers right now. You'll just have to believe me if I say that I don't own anything, not even a Master Card…

oOo

So now that Qui-Gon had decided which shop they would try their luck in, he decisively marched towards it, Padmé, Jar Jar and Artoo in tow.

When they entered the small, shabby room which – in combination with a back yard that was cluttered with more or less useless scraps of anything imaginable – formed the entirety of the sorry little excuse for a shop, a pleasant 'ding-dong' announced their arrival. It was rather unexpected to find that relic of 'ye olde corner shoppe' here, of all places.

But Qui-Gon couldn't spare the bell any more thoughts as the shopkeeper immediately approached them. He looked like a failed (and probably illegal) crossbreeding experiment between a blue elephant and a particularly ugly bat.

He asked them something in Huttese, which sounded suspiciously like gibberish. Qui-Gon was rather thankful that Obi-Wan had reminded him of the purpose and practicality of subtitles when dealing with foreign languages during their last mission, so now the Jedi Master had no trouble understanding what the strange blue alien had said to him. He just read the subtitles to find out what was being said.

"_Good day to you. What do you want?_" the shopkeeper asked in a gruff, not very friendly sounding voice.

Thanks to the subtitles, Qui-Gon answered without hesitating: "I need parts for a J-type 327 Nubian."

Clearly pleased that he could finally sell some of his junk, the Toydarian answered in Basic: "Ah, yes! Nubian. We have lots of that." Then he added in Huttese: "_Boy, get in here now_."

"My droid has a readout of what I need," Qui-Gon stated.

Padmé was just about to exclaim indignantly that it was HER droid and not his at all, but at that moment a sandy-haired child entered the room, drawing everyone's attention on the newcomer. He was rather small, had a round, deceptively innocent face and huge blue eyes.

With a loud and elongated groan, Watto – who had not been introduced yet, but for fluency's sake he will be referred to by his name - turned in mid-air to face him.

"_What took you so long?_"

"_I was cleaning the fans!_" the boy huffed, scowling at Watto.

Ah, yes. As nobody anymore wanted to buy junk nowadays, Watto had been forced to make a living out of something else. And he had soon discovered a much-needed service that was not yet offered on the desert planet: cleaning fans. These fans were from some obscure little planet on the outmost edge of the Known Galaxy. Watto figured that 'fan' was an abbreviation of 'fanatic' because most of these people – who were humans without exception- dressed up as Jedi, Wookies, Han Solo (whoever that might be), princesses with a cinny bun hairstyle, some kind of soldiers wearing white plastic armour or some scary-looking so-called Sith Lord who was completely clad in black and seemed to suffer from the nastiest case of asthma in the whole Galaxy.

They seemed like a strange bunch of lunatics who were apparently waiting for their deity, although there were different fractions that couldn't seem to agree on their own deity's name: Some were waiting for someone called "Obi-Wan", others got ecstatic if "Han Solo" or "Luke Skywalker" were mentioned. Watto was rather tolerant of their strange religion, although he just found the idea of little Anakin being the subject of worship completely laughable and more than a little disturbing. Still, there were those that zealously claimed that the little boy working in Watto's junk shop was some kind of Chosen One, destined to bring balance to the Force (whatever that meant). Most of the time, these fanatics were peaceful, keeping to themselves and talking about the weirdest things, but sometimes the fractions started arguing. There were the usual little arguments between Yoda and Sidious fractions or the Qui-Gon and Darth Maul fractions. These were mostly about which was the faster/more awesome/just generally better one. Occasionally, though, there were some arguments that almost bordered on battles, and these usually took place between the people dressed up as Jedi and those dressed up as the scary black guy.

Secretly, Watto considered them all insane, but he didn't mind them so much as they brought him good money: their costumes inevitably got all sandy and dusty in the desert climate, and they paid Watto for cleaning their cloaks, armours, masks and helmets… or rather, letting Anakin clean them. It was not such hard work, and the boy seemed genuinely fascinated with all the different clothes, but especially the helmet of the scary black guy. He usually put it on and then made harsh breathing noises, claiming that he was 'practicing for later on in life', whatever that might mean.

Maybe he planned on becoming one of these creepy people that would call someone on the phone without saying anything but just breathing noisily to make young women freak out when he was grown up. Watto sometimes wondered if you could make a living out of that, and if it was possible, why he never had thought of doing it.

Pulling out of his reverie, Watto snapped: "_Watch the store. I've got some selling to do_."

Then, turning to Qui-Gon, he said in a much more polite voice: "So, let me take thee out back, huh? We'll find what you need."

Watto slowly made his way out through the back door into the yard that was completely littered with scrap. He motioned for Qui-Gon to follow him.

When the Jedi walked past Jar Jar, he took a small remote sporting a big red button from the Gungan. "Don't touch anything." He said sternly, giving Jar Jar a pointed look.

As Jar Jar stuck his tongue out in response, Qui-Gon chose to ignore it rather than waste time beating a dead bantha, because trying to teach Jar Jar manners was certainly futile and he wanted to get this over with as fast as possible.

Then, he followed the shopkeeper outside.

oOo

Padmé was left standing in the middle of the small shop, looking a bit lost. She looked around. She was not used to this kind of shop: small, stuffed with trash and rusty parts, dark and unwelcoming, no clothe racks present at all. The shops she knew had lots of mirrors and polite and ever-smiling shop assistants who were there to tell the clients how fabulous they looked in a dress or a pair of shoes, making the price for said piece of clothing seem small in comparison to the glamour it would bestow upon the owner. She couldn't see any mirrors or even clothes, jewellery or shoes in here, and the only shop assistant was the small boy sitting on the counter. He was staring at her, and that made her feel slightly uncomfortable, so she tried to look anywhere but at him.

"Are you an angel?" the boy suddenly asked.

Padmé was startled out of her thoughts.

"What?" she asked, smiling slightly at the boy's naivety. Didn't he know that angels were supposed to have wings and a halo?

But the child insisted. "An angel. I heard the deep space pilots talk about them. They're the most beautiful creatures in the universe," he said, sounding like a know-it-all. In fact, he had heard the deep space pilots talk about successful pick-up lines, and they had agreed on that one as their favourite. Anakin had been eager to try it out, and had done so at any opportunity so far. It had gotten him into a tight spot when Jabba had come into the shop, but luckily, the huge Hutt had been flattered rather than insulted by the remark, and had blushed, giggling and thanking Anakin for the compliment. Needless to say, Anakin had fled from the shop as fast as his feet could carry him, hiding under his blanket for the rest of the day, leaving the fans to clean themselves.

"They live on the moons of Iego, I think," Anakin added for good measure, just to show how knowledgeable he was.

Padmé was impressed. "You're a funny little boy. How do you know so much?"

Anakin was clearly displeased at her choice of words. He was quite sure that no one ever called the deep space pilots 'funny little boys' when they said their bit about angels. Besides, he was neither _small_ nor _funny_. He was nine years old, and that was not small! And he couldn't remember having said anything that had been supposed to be funny.

"I listen to all the traders and star pilots who come through here. And besides, some of these fans are real freaks, they know just about everything about the entire Galaxy," he explained. "I'm a pilot, you know, and someday I'm gonna fly away from this place," Anakin bragged, sounding very self-important and smug.

Instead of being annoyed with the boy's boasting, Padmé was amazed. It was obvious that she hadn't spent much time around politicians yet, who were also known for bending the truth in their favour.

"You're a pilot?" she asked astounded.

"Mm-hmm. All my life."

Padmé had difficulty envisioning a tiny toddler behind the controls of any craft aside from maybe these little plastic things little kids would sometimes run around in.

But if Anakin said so…

"How long have you been here?" Padmé enquired. Maybe this boy was in fact a lot older than the first impression would reveal. He certainly sounded like he already knew all about flying there was to know.

"Since I was very little. Three, I think. My mom and I were sold to Gardulla the Hutt but she lost us betting on the podraces," Anakin clarified. He had also heard from the deep space pilots that playing on women's protective and soft side was a good strategy, though he still had to figure out what all these strategies would lead to.

"You're a slave?" Padmé asked.

_Duh, didn't I just say that?_ Anakin thought, more than just a bit irritated.

"I'm a person, and my name is Anakin," he told her snappily, his angry stare fixed on this girl who had _dared_ to insult him – and his mom. Anakin was always very protective of his mother.

His eyes were narrowing dangerously, and he already made plans of blowing up her home planet or maybe chocking her when he was grown up and strong enough to do so. But he shoved all these thoughts of retribution and retaliation aside – at least for the time being – when she apologized.

"I'm sorry. I don't fully understand. This is a strange place to me."

Anakin had already noticed that obviously, this girl wasn't too quick on the uptake, so he forgave her. And besides, he liked her. She seemed nice in a way he had never before considered girls nice…

But Anakin's pre-teen love-at-first-sight moment was crudely interrupted by Jar Jar. The Gungan hadn't heeded Qui-Gon's advice and had once again pushed red buttons. To his disappointment, nothing had happened at first because most of the droids in the shop were turned off or simply too damaged to function at all, but then one of them suddenly sprang to life and started initiating its self-destruction mechanism.

_Why does everything in this stupid Galaxy come with a self-destruction mechanism?_ Anakin wondered. But then it hit him: all these huge red buttons must be there for his amusement, because he enjoyed pushing random red buttons even more than the Gungan did, and he gained a perverse glee from watching things explode…

Now the little droid was jumping through the shop and the Gungan was stumbling after it, trying to grab it. He only flailed around, though, and fell on his nose.

Even the droid started laughing at this inept creature. It had chosen dying of laughter its favourite way of self-destruction. Padmé also couldn't help but smile. Anakin, on the other hand, was not exactly delighted that now the only functioning droid in their junk shop was about to self-destruct.

So when Jar Jar finally grabbed the little rusty thing, crying: "I got ya!" Anakin angrily shouted: "Hey! Hit the nose!"

After looking undecidedly at the droid for a few seconds, Jar Jar figured that hitting the nose was almost as much fun as pushing red buttons, so he leaned forward to do as he was told. Luckily, this droid was like a shark in that respect: It had a very sensible nose, so it snapped shut and sulked, ignoring the discourteous living beings around it who wouldn't let it self-destruct in peace.

oOo

Outside in the back yard, Qui-Gon seriously doubted that any of the parts stacked here still worked: everything looked rusty and at least half a century old. It looked more like a museum for prehistoric junk or maybe for modern art than a shop for mechanical parts.

But the shopkeeper wheedled him into taking a look at whatever he intended to show the Jedi.

"A T-14 hyperdrive generator. Thee in luck. I'm the only one hereabouts who has one," he lied straight into Qui-Gon's face. That just left the problem of it actually working properly.

"But thee might as well buy a new ship. It would be cheaper, I think, huh?" Watto said, stroking his chin in a very satisfied manner. This was his first costumer this week, and he would get as much money out of him as possible. It was not easy earning enough to be able to pay for the rent and food if the only thing you were selling was garbage. They usually made ends meet with what Anakin earned from cleaning the fans, but they had survived on a small margin these last few days.

Watto hoped that this deal would get him enough money to afford him to take up his hobby again: he just loved betting on the pod races. So he tried to make enquiries just how much this client was willing to pay.

"Saying of which, how's thee gonna pay for all this, huh?"

"I have that many Republic dataries," the strange man said, counting the exact number on his fingers once more. With only ten fingers available, it took Qui-Gon quite long to communicate that he had 20,000 dataries. The Jedi Master was glad that his apprentice wasn't there to see it. Obi-Wan would probably have blushed embarrassedly by now and wished for his Master to just be a bit more conventional on occasion.

Watto was not impressed by Qui-Gon's counting abilities.

_Huh? Republic dataries? I can't believe there are still people trying to pay with that after the article on Tatooine was published on Wookiepedia, _Watto thought. _Where does that guy come from? Certainly not from around here as he wants to make everyone believe with his farmer's outfit. A person from Tatooine would never attempt to pay with THAT currency._

"Republic credits? Republic credits are no good out here. I need something more real," the Toydarian said, just a tad suspiciously.

_More real? I think my money is plenty real. Well, it's certainly not imaginary!_ Qui-Gon thought, just a bit annoyed with this new obstacle. But he was very confident that this problem wouldn't be a problem much longer once he tried his approved-by-Qui-Gon method of dealing with creatures whose opinion differed from his.

"I don't have anything else," he conceded, but then, waving his hand in front of his chest, he assured: "But credits will do fine."

To his amazement, Watto answered: "No, they won't."

Blinking a few times in annoyed surprise, Qui-Gon insistently repeated: "Credits _will_ do fine." The words were accompanied with another wave of his hand.

But just as stubbornly insistent, Watto retorted: "No, they won't! What, you think you're some kind of Jedi, waving your hand around like that? I'm a Toydarian! Mind tricks don't work on me. Only money," Watto informed Qui-Gon mockingly. "No money, no parts, no deal. And no one else has a T-14 hyperdrive, I promise you that."

Hoping that the stranger wouldn't see straight through this blatant lie – you could buy that kind of hyperdrive at just about every other corner, and in good working order, too – Watto stabbed a finger at this wanna-be Jedi.

Judging by the sour and unmistakably irritated expression on the man's face, though, he probably hadn't realized that. With a brusque nod and an insincere smile, but without another word, Qui-Gon turned around and stormed off.

Inside, Anakin had merrily continued boasting about his various abilities and skills, sending Jar Jar the occasional annoyed glare.

"Wouldn't have lasted long anyways if I wasn't so good at building things."

Jar Jar was once again hopping through the room, juggling stuff he wasn't supposed to have touched in the first place.

"We're leaving, Jar Jar," Qui-Gon snapped at him, not even bothering to turn around as he walked by. The irritating Gungan was the last thing he needed right now. _Why again did I bring the useless, annoying creature along instead of my Padawan?_ Qui-Gon asked himself, not for the first and certainly not for the last time on this trip.

Padmé chose to follow the Jedi Master without protest as he seemed to be in a bad mood right now.

"I'm glad to have met you, Anakin!" she said as she left the shop in the wake of Qui-Gon.

"I was glad to meet you, too!" Anakin shouted after them just as Jar Jar walked out the door.

"_Outlanders_!" Watto spat disgustedly after they had left. "_They think we know nothing_."

_When in fact they are the ones who know nothing. The big one couldn't even count properly,_ he silently added.

"_They seemed nice to me_," Anakin said.

"_Clean the racks, then you can go home,_" Watto told him. He didn't want to listen to the boy talking about his new friends for the rest of the afternoon.

"Yippee!" Anakin shouted, jumping down from the counter he had been sitting on and running outside, while Watto threw a sinister glance at no one in particular.

oOo

_A few hours earlier…_

From the shadows of the space ship's hatch, Obi-Wan watched the small party leaving. A few moments before, Captain Panaka had strolled past him; the real Queen dressed in some plain clothes trailing in his wake. The Padawan was relieved that she didn't seem to notice him hidden in the shadows.

After a short discussion with Qui-Gon, the Captain returned to the ship alone. Obi-Wan didn't envy his Master. Now he would have to deal with an extremely pubescent Queen on top of the terribly annoying Gungan. Metaphorically on top, of course, not literally. Obi-Wan had to shudder at that thought. It would create enough problems that Padmé would marry his future apprentice; there was definitely no need to complicate things with a secret affair with Jar Jar.

Obi-Wan shook his head, looking up at the sky doubtfully. He wasn't even standing outside in the sun, and already he got such strange thoughts. Future apprentice…

Obi-Wan almost snorted. There he was suspecting his non-existent apprentice of being secretly married to a politician when he was still a Padawan himself! Sometimes he wondered if he had spent too much time around Qui-Gon.

With a last glance at the silhouettes of his Master, Jar Jar, Artoo and Padmé vanishing in the sweltering heat, Obi-Wan returned to the much cooler interior of their ship, thanking the Force for air conditioning. And although he was glad that he didn't have to look after the Gungan any more, he now wished that he had told Qui-Gon about Padmé's real identity.

He doubted that it would have done much good, as either Qui-Gon already knew about it and he would receive yet another lecture about how stating the obvious was of no use to anyone, or his Master would simply dismiss the fact, stating confidently that Padmé couldn't possibly be the Queen "because her face is certainly not white enough and her lips not red enough and her hairdo not elaborate enough for that, and besides, the Queen is sitting over there, can't you see her, Padawan? You must always be aware of your surroundings!"

Obi-Wan could almost hear his Master say that.

Still, Obi-Wan resolved to tell his Master at the next opportunity. And while he was at it, he would also remind him that he could get his money exchanged at one of the numerous credit institutes around town, that hyperdrives are best bought from a professional hyperdrive dealer and not some run-down junk shop, and to ask him to stay away from pod races and promising Chosen Ones.

Feeling a bit less worried now, Obi-Wan walked back into the ship. Having lots of time on his hands now, he decided to take another look at the hyperdrive and check all the other systems as well. It wouldn't do to install the new hyperdrive just to discover that something else didn't work properly.

But his plans of spending the rest of the day with the mechanical parts of the ship were foiled when one of the Queen's handmaidens approached him. Obi-Wan was a bit taken aback by her almost predatory smile, but resolved to be polite nonetheless.

"Padawan Kenobi – oh, that sounds so formal, I'll just call you Obi-Wan – the Queen would like to talk to you."

Surprised at the handmaiden's sudden familiarity, Obi-Wan just nodded. If whoever was Queen right now wanted to talk to him, he could hardly refuse. He just hoped that it wouldn't take too long.

oOo

_Three hours later…_

Obi-Wan had to suppress a huge yawn. For the major part of the last three hours, he had been sitting here, in this admittedly rather comfortable chair. Next to him sat Gertrudé, the handmaiden whom he had followed to the Queen, and Annetté, who was presently the Queen.

Obi-Wan looked around the opulent chamber – well, opulent for a space ship, anyway. This was the Queen's personal suite, hardly a fitting place for a Jedi Padawan to spend his afternoon. He still couldn't quite understand how he had gotten in this rather uncomfortable and boring situation. But when the Queen had asked – no, ordered, no less – that he come with them to be shown the Queen's entire wardrobe, he couldn't think of a polite way to decline. What he had not expected, though, was that all the handmaidens would put up a real fashion show for his sake, stalking around on the carpet-turned-catwalk, wearing the Queen's various robes and dresses.

Since they had started, the clothes had become continually more ridiculously complicated and completely bizarre. Obi-Wan had been forced to watch this display of royal garments, hoping and praying to the Force that _something_ would rescue from having to attend much longer. He dreaded the moment they ran out of dresses and would start presenting the Queen's nightgowns or underwear - especially since Hanké, the only male handmaiden, was also eagerly participating in the fashion show, and Obi-Wan didn't want to get nightmares of him in pink undies and a matching bra.

He wondered what he had done to make the handmaidens believe than he wanted to see their Queen's assorted clothes. Or why they were continually asking his opinion on all the dresses.

He couldn't even guess how many times he had had to answer the question "Obi-Wan, do you think I look _fat_ in this?" so far.

The girls seemed to have a lot of fun asking him all kinds of questions, like if he preferred blondes or brunettes, blue eyes or brown eyes and which colour was his favourite. He didn't think that that was any of their business, aside from the fact that he didn't see the point of all the asking.

Wracking his brains to find a polite way – or even _any_ way – to escape from these frightening female predators with their fluttering eyelashes and their exaggeratedly swaying hips, he mostly gave non-committal answers or tried to evade the questions.

Relying heavily on his Jedi training to keep from fidgeting or simply running from the room, screaming, he started wondering if it would be reprehensible to use a tiny Force suggestion on the whole group of would-be mannequins to make them leave him in peace.

But before he could decide whether he could stand any more of this, his comm. came to his rescue, buzzing audibly.

Grateful to be able to get away from the Queen's suite, he quickly excused himself and fled to the cockpit. He wouldn't be disturbed there by anyone but the pilots, who had thankfully banished all young girls – including the Queen – from the cockpit. The pilots had thrown them out shortly after the beginning of their trip, not being able to concentrate because of their constant chattering.

There, he answered his comm. link. Unsurprisingly, it was Qui-Gon who called. Without preamble, he asked:

"You don't happen to have any more money, do you?"

_What, he has already run out of money? What did he spend 20,000 credits on?_ Obi-Wan wondered. For that much money, he could have bought at least three and a half new hyperdrives!

"No, Master. I'm sorry; I don't have any more money. In fact, being a Jedi Padawan, I don't even possess any money at all."

Before Obi-Wan had the opportunity to ask how Qui-Gon had managed to spend the money, though, Qui-Gon interrupted him. The Jedi Master seemed to be quite irate. Maybe something hadn't worked out as he had planned.

"And the Queen? Does she have any additional money?"

Obi-Wan thought for a moment. "No, she doesn't. If she did, she would already have spent it, I suppose."

"How about jewellery? And isn't royalty obliged to always carry some kind of treasure chest with them?"

"I can ask her, but I highly doubt that they did bring a treasure chest. After all, we were in somewhat of a hurry when we left Naboo."

"And you're sure there's nothing left on board?" Qui-Gon asked, slightly exasperated.

Assessing everything he had seen on board so far for its value, Obi-Wan frowned.

"A few containers of supplies. The Queen's wardrobe, maybe, but not enough for you to barter with, not in the amount you're talking about."

In fact, Obi-Wan thought that the Queen's wardrobe had probably cost more that the whole ship. The problem was rather that they wouldn't find anyone willing to purchase heaps of extravagant and garish clothes in this rough spaceport.

Qui-Gon wondered if that remark was simply Obi-Wan's peculiar sense of humour, or whether there was a story behind it. Sounding less than exuberant at these new difficulties, Qui-Gon said: "All right. I'm sure another solution will present itself. I'll check back later."

"Wait, Master!"

But before Obi-Wan got the chance to say anything else, Qui-Gon had hung up on him without even saying goodbye.

Obi-Wan tried calling him back instantly to talk to him about all the things he wanted to tell him, like asking him if he had thought of exchanging their money or using his Master Card to withdraw the sum from the Temple's account. But it seemed that either his Master felt no desire to further talk to his apprentice, or he had switched his comm. off unintentionally.

With a frustrated sigh, Obi-Wan leaned back in his seat. Even if this might be a bit repetitive, he really had a bad feeling about this.

Then he remembered that he had at least managed to escape the 'Fashion Menace' as he had secretly titled the event taking place in the Queen's chambers. And he definitely wouldn't go back in there, no matter what politeness required. He would make up all kinds of ominous Jedi rituals if he had to, just to escape from the clutches of these girls.

oOo

Edited on 2nd January, 2011


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Disclaimer: Although it's my birthday soon, I don't think I need get my hopes up all that much… so no, I guess I don't own anything, this is just for fun. My fun and I hope your fun, too.

oOo

"Alright. I'm sure another solution will present itself. I'll check back later."

Slightly frustrated, Qui-Gon hung up on his apprentice. For a second, he thought he heard Obi-Wan shout "Wait, Master!" but then he shook his head. If his apprentice had anything of importance to say, he would call back. Qui-Gon stuffed his comm. link back into his pocket. That he had also switched it off went completely unnoticed.

Just as the tall Jedi Master was about to step out of the shadowed corner they had used for some privacy, Jar Jar started protesting wildly.

"Noah gain! Noah gain! Da beings hereabouts, cawazy! Wesa be wobbed un crunched."

Jar Jar felt that someone needed to be the voice of reason on this trip, because unfortunately, they had left the reasonable Jedi back at the ship. But Obi-Wan had asked Jar Jar to please keep an eye on Qui-Gon, and Jar Jar was taking his task very seriously. Too seriously, perhaps, as Qui-Gon definitely was right when he stated: "Not likely. We have nothing of value. That's our problem."

It seemed that Obi-Wan had made a poor choice with Jar Jar as the voice of reason. Unfortunately, Jar Jar had also been his _only_ choice. Of course Artoo would have been a lot better for that job, but no one would have been able to understand his beeping and whistling, and at least Jar Jar could speak – although that was arguable, too.

Throwing the Gungan an annoyed glance, Qui-Gon thought he detected his Padawan's meddling in the creature's cautious advice. For a short instance, he wondered if maybe they could sell Jar Jar to get the money they needed. But he discarded the idea just as quickly: certainly no one in his right mind would want to buy Jar Jar, and if the Gungan's looks didn't chase potential buyers away, they would undoubtedly run away when he opened his mouth.

Turning around, Qui-Gon strode off determinedly, hoping against hope that Jar Jar would simply stay where he was and not follow him any longer.

Unfortunately, the lanky alien did follow him. They were walking across some kind of market place once again when Jar Jar spotted some delicious frog-like things hanging at one of the stalls. Taking a closer look, he decided that after putting up with all these crazy Jedi and royals, he was entitled to some nice treats – even though he was on a diet to keep his slim figure at the moment.

"Aaah, moi moi!" he said. Then, using his tongue he tried to swallow one of the delicacies. What he hadn't thought about was that on a desert planet, amphibian food couldn't be fresh because there wasn't enough water around for that, so these frogs had probably been imported, were at least three days old and at least twice the price here on Tatooine than they were on Naboo. It was not the first-rate quality he usually found in the swamps of Naboo.

And he hadn't thought that it was attached to some kind of hook.

When it was already halfway down his throat, Jar Jar heard the vendor ask gruffly: "_Hey, are you gonna pay for that?_" Having neither the experience of missions to foreign planets nor an apprentice to kindly point out that reading the subtitles was a good option if you didn't understand what was being said, Jar Jar just stared at the alien blankly.

"_It costs seven wupiupi._"

Panic was rising in Jar Jar. He hadn't understood a word of what the vendor was saying, but he had heard one word quite distinctly: Wupiupi? He had never heard of that, but to him it sounded infinitely scary and creepy. Maybe it was some relative of the bogeyman who would come and get the little Gungans when they weren't being good little Gungans. In his shock, Jar Jar spat the frog out again, hurling it across half the market place. It hadn't tasted nice, anyway, much too old and leathery. It ended up right in the soup of some intimidating alien, spilling his lunch all over the table.

Indignantly, the offended alien instantly spotted Jar Jar just as the Gungan tried to walk away, doing his best to appear innocent. Jar Jar didn't want to get into trouble with any of the bogeyman's relatives, no matter how distant.

But it was too late: Already something was tackling Jar Jar, throwing him down on the sand.

"_Is this yours?_" the attacking alien demanded, pushing the Gungan to the ground with his hands while waving the dead frog around with his foot.

"Who, mesa – ?"

Before Jar Jar could finish his falsely innocent ramblings, though, a foot grabbed his throat.

Right at that moment, Qui-Gon noticed that Jar Jar was missing. When he spotted the hapless Gungan being in trouble, he thanked his good luck. If they hurried, they could leave Jar Jar behind without anyone being the wiser. He ushered the handmaiden and Artoo towards a corner. Once they were out of sight, the Gungan – who had no talent for navigation whatsoever, Qui-Gon now knew – wouldn't be able to find them again. Once again, Qui-Gon wondered why he didn't bring his apprentice along instead. Sure, Obi-Wan could also be quite annoying at times, like when he tried to prevent his Master from picking up Chosen Ones or insisted that gambling was not the correct solution to all of their problems, but at least he had a pleasant voice and didn't talk in such a stupid manner as Jar Jar did.

But just as Qui-Gon was about to turn around the corner to forever disappear from Jar Jar's life, the little boy they had met at the junk shop interfered.

"_Careful, Sebulba. He's a big-time outlander. I'd hate to see you chance-cubed before we race again. You see, I picked up the local word for dice. Why are they called chance cubes instead of dice again?_" he said an arrogant smirk on his face and sounding very full of himself.

Anakin was very proud that he had remembered the correct term for dice on this planet.

But the ugly alien wasn't in the slightest intimidated by a small boy who obviously needed his perception of reality checked.

"_Next time we race, boy, it will be the end of you. If you weren't a slave, I would squash you right now_." Sebulba threatened, waving the dead frog he still clutched in his foot around.

With that, Sebulba referred to one of the many curiosities in Tatooine law: there was, in fact, a paragraph that prohibited squashing slaves; the same, though, was not true for any non-slaves, who could be squashed without recrimination – like that pathetic creature at his feet. When the law on Tatooine had been drafted, everyone had gone for lunch, and so the law that made squashing free people illegal had received no votes at all. Jabba made ample use of this hole in the law, careful to only feed non-slaves to the rancor – which was why, perversely, Jabba's slaves had a much more secure life in his wormhole… erm, palace than anyone else, as Luke would find out many years later.

"_Aww, that's a nice thing to say. I like you, too! See you tomorrow._" Anakin said, waving cheerily after a disturbed Sebulba who was leaving quickly, not wanting to be seen talking to this wacky boy any longer. Instead, the Dug decided to take out his anger on the next free person unfortunate enough to cross his path.

Anakin turned to Qui-Gon, who had reluctantly come back. After all, it wouldn't do to ignore a potential Chosen One only because he couldn't stand Jar Jar any longer.

"Hi!" Anakin, who looked very pleased with himself, greeted the approaching Jedi.

"Hi there," Qui-Gon answered. For a short time he wondered why he had felt strangely compelled to say "Hello there!" instead. But Qui-Gon had never been one to listen to any orders, never mind where these orders came from.

Smugly, Anakin informed anyone who would listen: "Your buddy here was about to be turned into orange goo, which is not a good thing because he is not exactly an orange, and anyone who is not an orange has no business getting turned into orange goo. He picked a fight with a Dug, an especially dangerous Dug called Sebulba."

Qui-Gon walked over to help Jar Jar to his feet. He didn't want to spend the rest of the day waiting for the Gungan to finally stand back up on his own accord.

"Mesa haten crunchen. Das da last ting mesa want," Jar Jar said, shocked that anyone would want to hit _him_, the most gentle and likeable being in the entire universe.

Still, Qui-Gon felt he needed to warn his carefree companion. They weren't on a pleasure cruise, after all.

"Nevertheless, the boy is right. You were heading into trouble," he rebuked Jar Jar. Then, he turned to Anakin, the annoyed frown replaced with a small smile, although it was doubtful if he was truly grateful. After all, if it hadn't been for the small boy, one of their bigger problems would have been turned into orange goo for free.

"Thanks, my young friend."

Nonchalantly, Anakin waved him off. "Nah, Sebulba is not such a bad guy. He wants everyone to think he's a big meanie, but I've got him figured out. He's really nice, once you look past his hideous looks and his nasty talk."

To emphasize his own cleverness, Anakin tapped his forefinger against the side of his nose. "In fact, Sebulba is a really poor creature. He's kind of backwards, you know? Always says the opposite from what he really means. See, just a few seconds ago, he threatened that he would squash me. That means in Sebulba-talk that he really likes me and would give me a hug, but he didn't because the last time he took a shower was quite some time ago and he doesn't want to make me uncomfortable with how he smells. So you see he's not so bad."

Qui-Gon looked at him, amusement and bewilderment evident in his gaze.

"You're a funny little boy. How do you know so much?" he asked, earning himself an angry poke between the ribs by Padmé, who muttered something about people always stealing her lines.

Anakin beamed at him, glad that someone finally recognized his genius for what it truly was (though he still didn't like being called a funny little boy) and then started his explanation, an enthusiastic gleam of childish glee on his face: "I figured it out all by myself. Did you notice that Sebulba has hands for feet and visa… via… vile… the other way 'round," he finally decided.

(Had Obi-Wan been there, he could have told him that he probably wanted to say "vice versa" and would have pointed out the origins of this phrase - a small planet called Rome full of senators, ceasars and people in togas. He wasn't there, though, so they will just have to deal with it…)

"So I asked myself: Why does he do that? What's his purpose in having really short feet, so short in fact that he has to walk on his hands? At first I thought that maybe he doesn't do it on purpose, that he was just born like that. But then I did some very clever thinking and came up with my brilliant deduction. Sebulba is just kind of contrary: like with his hands and feet, everything is the opposite of what it seems to be. For example, when he wakes up in the morning, he wishes everyone good night, if he compliments you on something, he's really pissed off, and you don't even want to think about how he eats… or that you probably just threw that frog into what must then be not his lunch but… ewww, let's not go there. So I finally understood him, the poor, misunderstood soul, and that's why he's a really good friend of mine, insulting me and threatening me constantly, because I am the only one who really understands him. Sad, eh?" He looked up at Qui-Gon, obviously done with his little speech.

Qui-Gon smiled down at the little boy, truly impressed by his perceptiveness and intelligence as well as his compassion for the pitiable alien. Maybe this boy –unlike his current Padawan - shared his hobby of helping pathetic life forms.

To have deduced so much about the Dug just from looking at his extremities was an astonishing feat that required a lot of insight. At first, Qui-Gon had thought that he was babbling nonsense, but with his clever reasoning, Anakin had managed to convince the Jedi Master, even though he certainly wouldn't have succeeded with his Padawan.

Intrigued with this bright young boy, Qui-Gon decided to stay close just in case that he had finally found his ultimate Chosen One…

oOo

Slowly, cautiously, Obi-Wan peered out of the cockpit.

Good, no handmaidens in sight.

He had tried using the Force to warn him of their presence, but for some reason, that hadn't quite worked. It seemed the Force was not on his side in this. Obi-Wan sneaked down the hallway of the ship, heading for the hatch. He was sure that he would be left alone outside because it was scorching hot with the sun beating down fiercely on the huge sandy plane their ship was parked on. Hopefully, none of the handmaidens would come looking for him out there. But then again, they wouldn't want to blemish their perfectly pale skin with a tan, or even worse, with sunburn.

Obi-Wan lowered the hatch, careful to be as quiet as possible. As soon as he stepped out into the sun, a wall of hot, arid air hit him. The Padawan would have very much liked to at least remove his robe because in this heat, it was truly stifling, but he didn't dare let go of any of his clothes with the handmaidens stalking him like that. If he left it lying around somewhere, he would certainly lose it to these infatuated teenagers and never see it again.

Well, he would just have to deal with the heat. It was easier to deal with than a bunch of lovesick girls, after all.

Once outside, Obi-Wan let his gaze wander. What a desolate planet this was! Aside from a few small lizards and the occasional crayt dragon hiding from the heat in the shadow of the rocks that could be seen on the horizon, there was nothing alive for miles around. But this desert did not only look empty to the eyes. To Obi-Wan's Force perception, it also _felt_ bleak and barren, devoid of life except for the few tiny sparks created by the tiny animals trying to survive in this hostile environment.

Obi-Wan looked towards the nearest spaceport where his Master had gone a few hours before. It seemed dirty and run-down, even from this distance. It felt even more depressing than the emptiness of the desert. Obi-Wan detected a mixture of malice, greed, cruelty and uncaring indifference as well as hopelessness and resignation. But amidst all the wretched creatures, he could also sense someone who felt like he was in Disneyland right now: Qui-Gon seemed to have the time of his life. Contrary to his Master, though, most of the people here had either chosen this planet as headquarters for their illegal activities and a hideout from any kind of authorities, or were living here out of need, not out of preference. What a miserable place this was. Not exactly the location anyone would like to spend the rest of his days on, Obi-Wan mused. Despite the fact that he was still standing in the blistering heat of Tatooine's two suns, this thought made him shiver.

Obi-Wan hadn't spent more than three minutes outside when suddenly the stiff breeze picked up and turned into the beginnings of a furious storm. For a second, Obi-Wan wondered if he preferred braving a full-blown sandstorm to what undoubtedly awaited him inside the ship.

Shading his eyes, Obi-Wan looked towards the nearby city. He just hoped that they didn't have to spend any more time on this planet than was absolutely necessary. A feeling of unease had settled in the pit of his stomach that he couldn't seem to shake off.

At the horizon, a huge cloud of sand started to rise due to the ever increasing storm. From the ship, Obi-Wan sensed Captain Panaka approaching. He hadn't exactly grown comfortable with the man yet. The Queen's head of security seemed to disagree with everything the Jedi had done so far.

So Obi-Wan chose a topic of conversation they could safely agree upon: the weather. He had quite some experience with lots of politicians, and a little small talk about weather had always worked so far.

"This storm will slow them down," he said, not completely managing to banish the disquiet from his voice.

"Looks pretty bad," the Captain agreed for once.

Glad that he had finally managed to get a nice word out of the Captain, Obi-Wan wanted to use the chance to talk to him some more. At that moment, though, Panaka's comm link started buzzing.

Obi-Wan leaned closer to hear what was being said.

"Panaka."

"Receiving a message from home," one of the pilots aboard the ship informed them.

"We'll be right there!" was the Captain's answer. Then he clipped his comm link back to his belt and briskly turned around to head back into the ship.

Obi-Wan followed a few steps behind. It seemed his plan of avoiding the handmaidens as much as possible was useless now. He would be going right back into the rancor's liar. The storm pulling at his braid and robe, Obi-Wan walked towards the ship, determined to escape any further fashion displays but now resigned to his uncomfortable and teenager-filled fate… for now.

oOo

Edited on 2nd January, 2011


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

Disclaimer: No. Not really, no. (I can't believe I'm quoting Jar Jar, what the hell is wrong with me?)

oOo

Qui-Gon let his gaze wander. They were still somewhere near the market place where Anakin had saved Jar Jar from his demise, which in his opinion could not be timely enough. The Jedi Master inhaled deeply, and after recovering from the ensuing coughing fit because of all the sand that was in the air by now, he focused on the Living Force. He could feel his apprentice a few miles away. Obi-Wan seemed to feel uncomfortable, his presence in the Force tense and concerned. Qui-Gon thought that the young man worried too much. Personally, the Jedi Master was thoroughly enjoying himself right now. He didn't feel worried in the least, and the Force was confirming his belief that he had just found _the_ Chosen One. Qui-Gon resolved then and there that nothing and no one – the emphasis being on 'no one' as in Obi-Wan – would stop him from taking the boy to be trained as a Jedi, and if he had to battle a hundred possessive wizards for Anakin.

His train of thought and communication with the Force was disrupted by the newest pathetic life-form he had picked up: "Here, you'll like these pallies," Anakin said.

When Qui-Gon didn't react instantly, Anakin started poking him. "Here!" he insisted. Still, Qui-Gon seemed to be far away, thinking about how he could convince the Council to accept Anakin for training.

"HEY, I said HERE!" Anakin started jumping up to wave his hands in front of Qui-Gon's face, or at least he tried to, reaching only up to the Jedi Master's chest.

As Qui-Gon still didn't react, Padmé soon had quite enough: "Would you please take these stupid pallies to shut the brat up? If he shouts 'HERE' one more time, I think I'll strangle him or something."

That seemed to get at least Anakin's attention: "What, YOU want to strangle ME? I think you got that all wrong. I will strangle YOU! But not yet, I guess, as that completely wouldn't fit my image of the nice and selfless and innocent child. No, I'll wait with that till I'm grown up, then I can blame it on Obi-Wan's training or something and nobody will think bad of my mom because she didn't teach me proper manners. But you'll see, if you aren't the loyal and loving wife I expect you to be, you'll find yourself in big poodoo up to your neck. Not above the neck, though, because I wouldn't want to touch your neck to strangle you if it was smeared with poodoo, and I'm not supposed to know about Force chokes yet."

He raged on for quite some time, but Padmé didn't listen any more to his rant. She had completely zoned out when Obi-Wan was mentioned, not even surprised that Anakin seemed to know the Padawan already. She was lost in an alternate universe of Obidala-fantasies, completely oblivious to the real world around her.

Seeing that Padmé wasn't listening to him anymore, Anakin made a last attempt to get the Jedi Master's attention. He screamed "HERE!" one last time and practically punched Qui-Gon in the stomach.

"Ooof!" Qui-Gon said and then looked down on Anakin, finally resurfacing from his daydreams. "Hey, what was that for?"

"Would you please take these pallies now and put them away so the plot can continue?" he said, pressing them in Qui-Gon's hands. "Didn't your mom tell you to always eat your vegetables? You are so tall, surely your mom made you eat lots of healthy stuff. My mom always tells me that I will grow really tall and strong if I eat my vegetables. But I guess you don't need to grow anymore, you're already as tall as or even taller than anyone I know."

The Jedi looked down on the prattling child. "Thank you."

He finally accepted the pallies absentmindedly, putting them away so that everyone with only half an eye could spot the lightsaber dangling from his belt. Subtlety was not one of his greatest talents, it seemed.

Suddenly, the old woman in the tiny rickety stall spoke up: "Oh, my bones are aching. Storm's coming up, Ani. You better get home quick."

Turning away from the old woman, Anakin said: "Don't heed her, she's always predicting stuff and it hasn't turned out true so far. Not once. Always keeps going on about sandstorms, foretells the gender of children soon to be born, that kind of things. She's like the local witch. Her favourite prophecy is one about me ruling half the Galaxy. She's totally nuts. Of course I _will _someday rule the Galaxy, but naturally not only half of it. Never would my boundless lust for power allow me to stop at the half when I can have the whole thing. But I can safely say that because I know how great I am. She, on the other hand, says it without any kind of background knowledge on my fabulous talents, which makes the whole premonition completely implausible. She can't properly foretell my fate if she doesn't know how truly powerful and gifted I am. But enough of that, I don't want to spoil everyone's surprise at my suddenly turning to the Dark Side and simultaneously into the ruler of my new Empire. There's a sandstorm coming. Do you have shelter?"

Completely caught off guard by the boy's unexpected chatter, Qui-Gon blinked a few times. "Huh? What? Uh, shelter? Sure we have shelter. Do you want some?" he asked, grabbing a nutrition bar from his utility belt and offering it to Anakin. The child's little speech had left him reeling. What had he been talking about? Empire? Dark Side? Sand storm? Huh?

Padmé, on the other hand, was still in her Obi-Wan-induced stupor, and so didn't catch a word of what was said, and Jar Jar had never been the brightest light to start with.

Impatiently, Anakin waved the nutrition bar away. "No, I mean do you have shelter? Like, where you can hide from the storm?"

Finally retrieving his wits, Qui-Gon answered: "We'll head back to our ship."

"Is it far?"

At that point, Padmé returned to reality at last: "It's on the outskirts."

Qui-Gon thought she had just said that because she was so fond of skirts.

"You'll never reach the outskirts in time. Sandstorms are very, very dangerous." From his tone of voice it was clear that Anakin was repeating a sentence that someone – probably his mother – reiterated all the time to get him to remember why the perils of a sandstorm were best avoided.

Spontaneously, Anakin offered: "Come on, I'll take you to my place!"

Wondering what kind of little boy would invite over strangers he had met just minutes before and in a notoriously dangerous city at that, Padmé, Qui-Gon and Jar Jar followed Anakin to 'his place'.

As if the weather wanted to proof Anakin (or the old woman) right, the wind was quickly picking up speed, and along it also picked up lots of sand. What had been a gentle, if rather too warm breeze just a few moments ago was now strong enough to make the sand dance around them. Soon, they held their arms in front of their face protectively.

Anakin was grumbling: "I hate sand. It's coarse and it gets _everywhere_. It's in my hair, my ears, my eyes, my nose, my pants, between my toes and my teeth. Stupid sand! Maybe I will kill sand, too, when I'm the big black and evil Sith Lord."

Due to the storm, though, no one paid much attention to him. They were all busy shielding their eyes from the sand and trying to inhale as little of it as possible.

Soon, they arrived in front of a door. Anakin pushed a button, and they stepped in a small apartment. It was simple with rough stone walls and a few things that presumably belonged to Anakin littered the floor. There was a small model spaceship, an old Gameboy (one of these huge grey ones that had been the latest technology in portable entertainment about a century ago) and a few action figures.

Anakin was especially proud of these action figures. He had gotten most of them from particularly fanatic fans who came to Tatooine regularly. Some of them had taken a liking to him and had given him the little plastic puppets. Now Anakin had a tiny plastic Mace Windu who clutched a tiny plastic lilac lightsaber in one hand, a tiny plastic Obi-Wan Kenobi sporting a funny-looking beard, a slightly lopsided grin and a discoloured lightsaber (but at least the fan who had bought it had gotten a reasonable discount because of the imperfections), an even tinier plastic Yoda who looked even more wrinkly and ugly as he did in real life, and a life-sized plushy Wookie that went by the name of Chewie.

In his bedroom, there was also the half-finished result of Anakin's try at the 'EasyToDo Build your own C-3PO' kit. He had given up on that after installing the vocabulator and finding that this protocol droid was probably the most annoying thing in the entire galaxy – even more annoying than the tiny plastic Jar Jar figure that talked if you pulled on a string attached to its back.

On a place of honour on top of the shelf, next to the tiny plastic Sidious that would cackle evilly ever so often if swiched on, there sat Anakin's most treasured possession: A one foot tall Darth Vader - complete with moveable limbs and a blood-red lightsaber - that emitted the trademark scary breathing sound and could even say "Luke, I am your father!" and "What is thy bidding, my Master?" in his amazing voice. Anakin polished it every day before he went to bed, so that it was always shiny despite the sand and dust that was ubiquitous on Tatooine.

But today Anakin completely ignored all of his prized possessions, because he had found someone who looked exactly like his tiny plastic Qui-Gon Jinn, except that the real one was a lot taller and didn't continually lose his hair as the tiny plastic one did all the time. Quickly shoving the mess in a corner where it wouldn't bother anyone, Anakin walked into the apartment he shared with his mother.

"Mom! Mom, I'm home!" he shouted to announce his presence.

While Jar Jar made a remark about the cosiness of their home, a careworn but friendly-looking woman entered from the kitchen. Upon spotting the strangers standing in the middle of her living room her eyes widened in shock. She quickly turned around to grab a kitchen knife and pointed it at these unexpected guests.

She still remembered all too well the last time her son had brought complete strangers along. They had not been exactly evil (though the chances were that any random stranger you met in Mos Espa was not the law-abiding and benevolent kind of guy) but they had eaten the supplies that usually lasted the little family a week in less than two days, and they had left the apartment a complete mess. No, she didn't want any more of this.

Pointing the slightly wavering tip of her kitchen knife at the invaders of her home, she was about to say so when Anakin exclaimed indignantly: "These are my friends, mom." Then he started pleading: "Can I keep them? Please? I found them out on the street, they don't belong to anyone else, I made sure of that. I will look after them and feed them and clean them and everything. You wouldn't have to do anything. You wouldn't even notice they were there! Please, mom! See, the big one already accepts food from me. I will have them tamed and accustomed to the sanitary rules in no time. I've always wanted a dog, but since I can't have one (what's a dog, anyway?) can I please keep these random strangers? Please? Please please please please please?"

Still wary of these strange people her son had dragged into their apartment, Shmi took a second look at them. Well, the girl certainly didn't look all too threatening, more like a thoroughly spoiled teenager. By the looks of her, she was probably daddy's little princess, even though she was for some resason trying to hide it, but her manicured fingernails, the perfectly white (probably bleached) teeth and the extensions in her hair gave her away, anyway.

The ungainly alien didn't seem able to do _anything_ right, so he definitely was a threat to the state of semi-cleanliness she had managed to install in her apartment since her son had left that morning. Besides, he looked like he was the most annoying creature in this half of the Galaxy, with the probable exception of that disaster of a droid her son had tried to build.

That left the extremely tall man with the long hair. She eyed him guardedly. He looked like he could turn her whole world around, take Anakin with him to a supposedly better life and make her end up both the wife of some moisture farmer and dying a tragic death just to give another excuse for her son's going to the Dark Side.

As if he somehow knew that her thoughts were on him, the man nodded slightly and introduced himself: "I'm Qui-Gon Jinn."

Already losing interest in the complicated part of getting his mother to accept that his new friends would spend the night here, Anakin told Padmé: "I'm building a droid. You wanna see?" he asked, remembering the half-finished droid he had built from the kit the fan had given him. The pilots he had overheard in the cantina had also been quite emphatic that women just _loved_ any kinds of mechanics. He also remembered hearing them say that that the only thing that beat mechanics were Jedi, though impersonating one of those could lead to too much trouble to bother doing it.

Padmé was not reacting to Anakin's offer.

Meanwhile, Qui-Gon tried to seem as non-threatening as possible: "Your son was kind enough to offer us shelter," he explained their presence.

Cutting off any reply from his mother before she could possibly throw them out again, Anakin grabbed Padmé's hand, pulling her after him: "Come on, I'll show you 3PO!" he said, not waiting for an answer before he dragged a rather speechless Padmé after him.

Shmi was just as speechless, if not more so. She hadn't even managed to say anything yet, and now she was jumping out of the way as her son pressed past her, followed more or less involuntarily by the girl and a small beeping droid she hadn't even discovered yet.

With a sigh, she wondered why her son always seemed to act before he thought, or if he ever thought at all...

oOo

Edited on 2nd January, 2011


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

Disclaimer: I sure hope that I don't resemble George Lucas so much as be able to pass as him!

oOo

In the living room, Shmi still stood pressed to the wall, staring incredulously at the huge bearded man who looked at her as if he was expecting her to start screaming any moment. And she was sorely tempted to do just that: Scream at the top of her lungs until either her voice or the strangers left. But just as she was taking a deep breath and tried to decide whether she should go for an elongated and piercing "Aaaaahhhhhh!" or put all the dirty language she had picked up over the years to good use, she suddenly felt a great blanket of calmness silence all her thoughts. This Qui-Gon Jinn person was staring at her intently, his hand still raised in front of his chest.

Qui-Gon slowly felt worried. Maybe he had overdone it once again. Since he had used the mind trick on Anakin's mother to ensure that he and his companions could stay in the small apartment, she had done nothing but stare at him blankly. Deciding that three minutes was definitely too long to recuperate from any mind trick, no matter how unintentionally overwhelming, he snapped her out of it.

"Hey! Are you all right?" he asked, slightly shaking her as he didn't get an answer immediately.

That seemed to do the trick: Shmi started, then with a glance at the kitchen knife clutched in her hand mumbled something about cooking dinner and retreated to the kitchen. All of a once, this guy in her living room seemed to be the nicest man on Tatooine and she would be honoured to have him and all of his companions as guests for as long as they wanted to stay.

oOo

In a small storage room, Anakin uncovered the unfinished form of his droid project.

"Isn't he great?" he boasted. Then he explained: "He's not finished yet." To Anakin, that seemed quite obvious, but he didn't know how knowledgeable Padmé was concerning droids, and he didn't want to seem incompetent in front of her because his droid looked ugly.

It was quite obvious that Padmé had no clue about droids, because she said: "He's wonderful."

Anakin was about to burst with pride at the praise from his beloved Padmé.

"You really like him?" he asked, both incredulous and immensely pleased. "He's a protocol droid to help Mom, though I have no idea what he could help her with. She doesn't do any protocol that she might need help with. But watch!"

Anakin pressed the activation switch on C-3PO's collarbone. The droid came to life and immediately started sputtering indignantly. "Where is everybody?"

One of his photo receptors was not where it should be, and the right eye socket was empty. The other eye was obviously just for show because evidently the droid couldn't see with it.

Anakin snatched up the missing eye with his right hand, and then transferred it to his left hand to plug it into 3PO's head. In the blink of an eye, though, it was no longer his left but his right hand that was raised to reattached the sensor.

Padmé blinked a few times. How had Anakin done that?

Disbelievingly, she stared at the creepy little boy who seemingly could switch his hands with light speed. Before she could ponder the matter any longer, though, 3PO started talking.

"Oh, hello. I am C-3PO, human cyborg relations. How might I serve you?"

Padmé was delighted by this polite droid. Her handmaidens never were as respectful and soft-spoken as that droid. "He's perfect," she said. Perfect for dealing with politicians and serving drinks at boring social gatherings.

If droids could blush, 3PO certainly would have at that moment. "Oh, perfect," he repeated softly.

Anakin was elated at receiving such praise. Finally someone recognized his incredible talents! It was long past time that someone saw how he excelled at everything he did and that he finally got all the admiration he clearly deserved. Soon not even the Council could ignore his incredible talents any longer, and then they would _have_ to make him a Master. He was ready to be one! It wasn't fair that he was still denied the rank of Master when he surpassed everyone else his age and even most of the older Jedi! It was all Obi-Wan's fault! He was holding Anakin back because he was jealous!

Blinking confusedly, Anakin wondered where that thought had come from. Chasing it away with a slight shake of his head, he once again turned his thought to Padmé, the strange annoyance he had felt just seconds before completely forgotten.

With a glint in his eyes that was beyond mere smugness and conceit, he boasted: "When the storm is over, I'll show you my racer. I'm building a Podracer."

It seemed that Padmé was not familiar with all this technical stuff, as she failed to be sufficiently impressed. No more of the admiring exclamations Anakin had expected came forth; instead Padmé gave him a quizzical look.

I was plain as day that she had no idea what podracing was all about.

He let the subject drop. It was no use; obviously Padmé was a bit technologically challenged.

Meanwhile, C-3PO had gotten up and was tottering towards R2. Turned out he wasn't as perfect as Padmé had said earlier: his left foot was half a centimeter shorter than his right one, which gave the droid a slow and noticeably limping gait. At least, its internal sensors for determining the solidity of the floor seemed to be working, even though the conclusions the droid's cerebral computer drew from the readout was not: ""I don't think this floor is entirely stable," C-3PO complained. But now that he had his functioning eye in his head, he spotted R2 who sat in a corner, happily mocking the prissy protocol droid.

"Hello. I don't believe we have been introduced," C-3PO said.

R2 gave a series of whistles and beeps that might have meant "Nice to meet you" or "Stay away from me! You'll only try to stop me from bringing a very important message to a certain General Kenobi in a few years' time. Obi-Wan Kenobi, you are our only hope!"

Since no one has ever heard of prescient droids, however, it is quite safe to assume that it was not the second option. But knowing C-3PO, it probably wasn't the first option, either, though C-3PO's answer was: "R2-D2. A pleasure to meet you. I am C-3PO, human cyborg relations."

R2 gave another set of beeps, swiveling his visual receptor around so as to give 3PO an indecent scrutiny.

"I beg your pardon, but what do you mean, 'naked'?" the protocol droid – who of course could decipher all the whistles and beeps and then had to answer in a way that would give all those who couldn't an idea of what had been said (well, beeped more likely) - inquired, sounding slightly miffed that this tiny astromech droid had the impertinence to make such a remark.

As expected, the answer was another whistle that definitely sounded amused this time.

C-3PO sounded horrified. "My parts are showing? My goodness! I can't run around naked, with my parts showing. At least give me a towel or something for some decency. There is a child watching, for goodness' sake! We don't want to traumatize him for the rest of his life."

Looking slightly puzzled, Anakin powered the rambling droid down again. He couldn't see C-3PO's problem. What was there to see that Anakin hadn't put there? It was all wires, after all, nothing spectacular. And certainly nothing that would traumatize any children who didn't have an inexplicable phobia of wires. For a second, Anakin wondered if he had already been traumatized (whatever that meant, he had no idea) and would now turn out the Galaxy's most screwed-up person, but then he decided that his mom and Padmé had also seen 3PO in his current state of un-coveredness, and neither had succumbed to mysterious fits or outward signs of this strange trauma-thing yet. Shrugging, Anakin decided that he would simply remove the unit in his droid's electronic brain that was responsible for modesty.

With an apologetic smile to Padmé, he dragged her off to show her the rest of the tiny apartment.

oOo

Back somewhere in the middle of the desert, aboard the Nubian ship, Obi-Wan tried to look as small and insignificant as a young man with an unusual hairdo, strange clothes and rather good looks could in a room filled with girls, Hanké (Obi-Wan's common sense refused to count this one as one of the handmaidens) and the inevitable Captain Panaka. They had just come in, Obi-Wan's attempt to evade the other people on the ship being rendered futile when someone from Naboo had contacted them and the current Queen had sent out Panaka to fetch him.

So now the Padawan was standing in the middle of the throne room and waited. So far, no one had said or done anything, and Obi-Wan had a hard time refraining from shifting uncomfortably. All the concealed and occasionally also very obvious stares everyone was giving him made him feel distinctly uneasy. It seemed his plan to stay in the background didn't work at all.

After a few more moments of silent and (in some cases) open-mouthed staring, Captain Panaka audibly cleared his throat. Still, nothing happened. The Captain then gestured for the Jedi Padawan who did his best to disappear in that wide brown robe of his to speak, sure that at least the females in this room would give him their undivided attention.

Obi-Wan still looked slightly uncomfortable, but none of that unease could be detected in his voice when he addressed the Queen with a polite bow:

"Your Highness, how may I be of service?" Although it was a perfectly acceptable way to address any royal, Obi-Wan wanted to kick himself as soon as he had said these words. The Queen's eyes had gone wide and her stare had taken on a quality that Obi-Wan couldn't quite define but was certainly not comfortable with.

What came to his rescue was a rather fortunate if somewhat inadvertent coincidence. Just as the girl who had the privilege of sitting on the throne today was about to open her mouth to take advantage of Obi-Wan's generous if unintentional offer, the Padawan was hit by a massive Force suggestion coming from his Master. It took him a moment to block out that almost overwhelming mind trick. It seemed Qui-Gon was once again being overly liberal with the force he put behind his arguments – pun certainly intended. Still recovering a bit from the considerable surge of power Qui-Gon had put behind that particular suggestion, Obi-Wan was pretty sure that if the strength of this mind trick was anything to judge by, half the planet's weaker-minded populace would be under his Master's charm for the next week or so.

For a moment, the Padawan wondered what could require so much forceful convincing and whether his Master would ever appreciate how useful a bit of subtlety could be from time to time. Maybe his Master was trying out his mind tricks on Toydarians… again. It had always irked Qui-Gon that on their mission to Toydaria, he never had any success with his preferred method of persuading others.

The handmaidens also didn't remain unaffected. Whatever the Queen was about to say, the thought was completely erased. Instead, she started to insist that of course Qui-Gon would be welcome to stay as long as he wanted and would be served a proper dinner, a statement that was cheerily applauded by all the other people present in the throne room of the cruiser.

Obi-Wan thanked the Force and his Master for the timely rescue.

Finally, Captain Panaka had enough. "So who called? I was told that we received a message from home. Who called? What did they say?"

Startled, the Queen looked up. "Uh, er, what? Oh, yeah. The message. This is what we received a few minutes ago. We didn't dare pick up, so we only have the recording on the answering machine."

She pressed a button and a tinny voice announced: "You have one new message." After a loud _beeeeep_, a bluish hologram of the old politician they met on Naboo flickered to life in the centre of the room.

Sio Bibble looked around nervously before he said: "Hello? Anyone there? If anyone hears this, would you please answer the call? Oh, I hate these answering machines! Anyway, I called because the Neimoidians forced me so they can pinpoint your location in case you answer."

Someone else interrupted his little speech then, but he was outside the radius of the comm link so it couldn't be determined what was being said.

The elderly politician looked flustered. "What? Oh, I shouldn't have told them that? Sorry. Won't happen again. So where was I? Ah yes. The situation here is disastrous. Everyone was brought to camps where they have to do all the activities the Trade Federation guys claim are usually done in camps. In some of the camps, they take you to lakes to go canoeing, some go climbing in the mountains. A few especially unlucky ones got assigned to a camp designed to make you lose weight. Officially, they call all that 'fun activities', but I can't find any fun in roasting marshmallows over campfires – yes, they even have campfires, isn't it terrible? But that's not the worst by far! Your Highness, if you are listening to this you might want to sit down now."

Here, he made a dramatic pause. Obi-Wan wondered what could have happened to shock the poor man so badly. As a Jedi, he was no stranger to the atrocities of war and had witnessed more violence and oppression than he cared for. But what came next shocked even him, though for slightly different reasons than the politician had implied.

After a weary sigh that eloquently summed up the horrors the old man had been through in the last few days, Sio Bibble continued: "They found the royal wardrobe. It's a disaster! These slimy Neimoidians are ravaging all of your clothes! They are actually trying them on. They completely stretched that lovely pink one to a shape that would fit one of their kind, but never a gorgeous young woman as your Highness! The purple dress you wore for the party on Alderaan has a tear, and they stepped on the hem of the silvery one you got for your birthday, completely ruining it. And you don't even want to know what they did to your favourite white robe that matches Your Highness' complexion so well. And not only that! They also ruin any shoes and stilettos and pumps and delicate sandals they can find! You won't have a matching pair of shoes for any dresses that might survive this tragedy. It's horrible to watch them kill all these pretty dresses. The death toll is catastrophic. We must bow to their wishes. You must contact me!" he insisted. The urgency in his voice and the terror in his eyes spoke volumes of his emotional state after having to witness the death of so many clothes.

Before the hologram could even flicker out properly, Obi-Wan was already on his feet, strolling towards the door. He needed to get out here as fast as possible before the Queen recovered from her shock and started mourning the part of her wardrobe they had been forced to leave behind on Naboo. Besides, he didn't think he could take any more of this lunacy. He hadn't decided yet if Sio Bibble had meant all he had said literally or if he had used some kind of code to give them an idea of the situation on Naboo and if these "dresses" were in reality citizens of the usually peaceful planet.

But whatever it was, Obi-Wan figured that if he was fast enough, no one would stop him from leaving the throne room so he could escape to the cockpit once more.

Just to be on the safe side, Obi-Wan once again turned to the dumbstruck girl sitting on the throne. She was clearly shaken by the news.

"It's a trick," he said, in case everyone had such a short attention span that by the end of the message they had already forgotten about the beginning. "Send no reply." As an afterthought, he added: "Send no transmissions of any kind."

Then, turning around, he left the room as long as everyone still tried to recover their voice after the upsetting news.

oOo

Edited on 2nd January, 2011


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

Disclaimer: It's almost Christmas, maybe they will be there lying under the tree for me, wrapped all up in colourful ribbons. Yet I suppose my parents got me something else, though, because it would be pretty hard to hide a bunch of wrapped-up Jedi in the back of the cupboard ;-)

oOo

As soon as Obi-Wan was out of sight of the throne room, he exhaled the breath he had not been aware of holding. This might turn out to be one of the more trying missions, after all. As he heard light footsteps coming his way, he quickly retreated into the cockpit where he would be safe for the moment.

Obi-Wan was thinking about what they had heard in the message. He got the feeling that the elderly politician had wanted to say more, but the answering machine couldn't record more than three minutes of holograms, so after the desperate plea, the transmission was cut off. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that the destruction of the Queen's clothes was the least of the problems the people of Naboo had to face.

If only he could talk to Qui-Gon! He felt useless sitting around the spaceship, being pursued by hormon-charged girls. Obi-Wan was quickly getting frustrated with the situation. He had spent most of the day either trying to avoid any handmaidens or being forced to watch their fashion show earlier. It didn't feel right to hide from a few teenagers like a coward when a whole planet was in danger and needed all the help it could get. And Obi-Wan would frankly much rather face all the droids the Trade Federation could throw at him than a bunch of handmaidens. At least he knew how to deal with enemies who wanted to kill him…

Pushing these thoughts aside, he pondered what he could do for the population of Naboo. Once again, he decided that he needed to talk to his Master first. Obi-Wan just hoped that Qui-Gon had switched his comm link back on. He was just about to contact him when the little device started to buzz. Instantly, he answered.

"Obi-Wan, I've tried to reach you for _hours_. Where have you been? Why didn't you answer?" Qui-Gon sounded impatient and slightly annoyed.

With as much respect as he could muster under the circumstances, Obi-Wan replied: "Master, did you switch on your comm link first? It doesn't work when it's switched off."

There he was, stating the obvious again. Sometimes it was simply necessary to do that when you were dealing with Qui-Gon Jinn.

There was a bit of embarrassed stammering on Qui-Gon's part before he regained his composure. "Uh, erm, you see… I, ah, probably should have… thought of that… Um, I mean of course I switched it on! Just how stupid do you think I am, Padawan?"

Somewhere in the background, a child's voice screamed: "It's all Obi-Wan's fault!"

Outraged, Qui-Gon asked: "Padawan, is that true?"

"Is what true, Master?" Obi-Wan asked, maybe a bit less respectful than was usual. He didn't like being accused falsely. Or he could only assume that he was falsely accused since he had no idea what it was he was accused of.

"That it's all your fault," Qui-Gon answered, now also with an accusatory note in his voice.

Before Obi-Wan's usually good manners could kick in, he already answered with biting sarcasm in his voice: "But Master, _of course_ it's all my fault. _Everything_ is all my fault. Didn't you know I have a lifelong contract to make sure I am always the guilty one? So naturally it will be my fault that you get yourself skewered by that red and black Sith. It will also be my fault that Anakin butchers all the Sand People, and that he will turn to the Dark Side later on and eradicate the Jedi Order is also entirely my fault. I mean, I am even the reason why Master Yoda is green. Whatever it is, just blame it on Obi, he can take it. So I am sure that my conscience can take a switched-off comm unit without shattering from the amassed guilt. It's just good for you that whatever it is, it's never ever _your_ fault, because surely you were just following the will of the Force!"

Obi-Wan thought that he should put a bit of the defiance Qui-Gon usually displayed in front of the Council to use, although he felt really uncomfortable talking back to his Master. Luckily, it seemed that Qui-Gon had been more than slightly distracted by the various pots and pans that contained the dinner Shmi was preparing, so the sarcasm was lost on him.

"Padawan, I am really disappointed. You are much too old for childish pranks. And you must not become arrogant: I am pretty sure that Master Yoda had already been green a long time before you were even born. As for all the other stuff you just said… hmmm, is that bantha stew? Smells delicious! And what's in there…?"

It seemed Qui-Gon could no longer withstand the seductive smells emanating from the pots on the stove. For a few moments, the only thing that could be heard were the voices of his Master and a woman talking about dinner, before the woman had enough of Qui-Gon who was sticking his fingers in all the dishes to taste them ("just to make sure it tastes nice" as the Jedi Master assured) and shooed him from the room.

Obi-Wan's voice coming from the comm link in his hand drew Qui-Gon's focus back on the conversation. What had Obi-Wan said earlier? Something about it being his fault that he couldn't reach anyone with his comm link turned off…

"Well, Padawan, at least you admitted to somehow being responsible for the comm link's failure to work when it's switched off. The least you could do is apologize." An expecting silence ensued.

With an almost inaudible sigh, Obi-Wan gave in. Arguing that he had tried to contact his Master several times in the last three hours and that he really wasn't to blame wouldn't do any good when Qui-Gon was in that mood.

"I am sorry, Master. It won't happen again." Obi-Wan did his best to sound appropriately remorseful. If he wanted to get any reasonable talking done before his Master unexpectedly hung up on him again, it wouldn't be wise to start a discussion that could never be won with logic arguments, anyway.

Qui-Gon grumbled a bit more before he accepted the apology. Thankfully, he instantly reverted to a friendly mood so that his apprentice could tell him of the message they received. Obi-Wan also admitted that he worried for the people of Naboo, gaining him a rebuke from his Master for centering on his anxieties when he should keep his focus on the here and now, where it belongs.

But at least Qui-Gon agreed with his evaluation of the message.

"It sounds like a bait to establish a connection trace," he confirmed Obi-Wan's suspicion.

Still, that did nothing to calm the Padawan's worries.

"What if it is true and the people _are_ dying?"

"Either way, we're running out of time."

Obi-Wan was relieved that his Master also felt they should leave Tatooine as soon as humanly possible.

"Master, I also wanted to talk about something else. I know that I have recently said that a lot, but I really do have a bad feeling about this, as if there is an evil Sith on our tracks and a grand scheme is being put into action that will ultimately lead to the destruction of the Jedi Order and to Galactic dominion by the Master of the Sith that's chasing us… Master? Are you still there? Master?"

Obi-Wan heaved another sigh, this one much more audible and slightly more miserable than the last one. Qui-Gon had once again hung up on him without saying goodbye or waiting for his apprentice to finish. Obi-Wan certainly agreed that they didn't have much time, but they surely had enough time to properly end their conversation, didn't they?

Maybe they didn't.

Obi-Wan figured that he might as well get used to it since it seemed doubtful that he would ever again get a proper farewell from his Master.

He did some more thinking about the situation on Naboo, the situation on Tatooine and the situation on this particular spaceship. He decided that it was not befitting of a Jedi to let a few girls unsettle him so much. He was sure that he could deal with this situation, at least, if he couldn't do anything about all the other problems at hand.

He would just go about his normal activities. Surely the girls would soon lose interest in him once they saw that he was just a normal person. Obi-Wan guessed that they couldn't possibly consider a lengthy meditation worth watching, so he decided to do just that. It would certainly do him good to regain his focus and find out what that obstinate yet elusive bad feeling was all about.

He hadn't done more than a few steps along the hallway towards the quieter part of the ship – after all, there was no need to push one's luck – when already one of the pesky girls was coming towards him again. Reminding himself of his earlier resolve, Obi-Wan gave her a polite smile that luckily forestalled any words or requests on her part and walked past her. Soon, he found a small room that seemed quiet enough and then chose the corner that looked the most comfortable to sit in. If there was one thing he had learned when it came to dealing with women, it was to never ever leave your back unguarded – though admittedly he usually had to deal with ruthless and dangerous bounty hunters that wanted to exact a terrible and painful revenge from him or mad and dangerous scientist that wanted to use him as a guinea-pig, not love-struck teenagers. Still, the principle was almost the same, wasn't it?

Just as he was settling down in the corner of his choice, the handmaiden he had met in the hallway was back, and she had brought along some reinforcements. Half a dozen girls were flocking in the entrance of the room, standing there and looking unsure whether they should enter or not. Obi-Wan, his determination of handling the situation as was worthy of a Jedi still fresh in his mind, told them that they didn't disturb him and were free to come in. Then, he closed his eyes and was about to start his meditation when one of the girls asked: "What are you doing? Do you sleep in the middle of the day, and in a sitting position, too?"

Patiently, Obi-Wan explained a bit about meditation and then once again prepared to calm his thoughts. He was very confident that his admirers would soon lose interest and leave when he just sat there in his corner, seemingly doing nothing.

He was wrong, though.

They didn't leave after ten minutes, they didn't leave after half an hour and they were still there after two hours. Most of the time they were quiet enough – though he felt their eyes rest on him all the time. He resolved not to let that distract him, and he thought he managed quite well to shut out their constant whispering. Still, every time Obi-Wan was about to look into the source of the bad feeling that had been demanding his attention for the last few days, they would inexorably break into a fit of giggles or make a frivolous and explicit remark that managed to completely shatter his concentration each time, though he didn't show it in his posture or on his face.

After two hours, he gave up. It seemed the handmaidens found meditation fascinating, after all. Cautiously, he cracked first one eye open, then the other one followed. It seemed he wasn't being watched at the moment. Silently, he got up and left the room with a polite bow but without a word to the chatting girls. If he couldn't get a good meditation, maybe a workout would help calm his worries. Obi-Wan checked the cargohold, but it was not big enough for the kind of exercise you did with a lightsaber, at least if the room should not be completely wrecked afterwards. The only room of the right size was the throne room, but Obi-Wan didn't even consider this choice. Instead, he looked outside and to his relief found that the storm was over. The sun was starting to sink and it was no longer as scorchingly hot as it had been earlier.

He walked a few steps away from the ship and found a clear and flat stretch of desert that would do perfect for his exercises. After looking for a place to put his robe and failing to spot one, he simply dumped it on the ground with a shrug. It would have to be cleaned anyway since it still smelt slightly of the perfume the Trade Federation had used on the Jedi.

Obi-Wan started stretching his muscles which were slightly cramped from sitting on the floor without being able to meditate for so long, but soon his movements were again as graceful and fluent as usual. He activated his lightsaber and started with a few basic movements, but soon he was completely caught up in the intricate movements and complex steps of his favourite katas. Shortly after he started his workout, he noticed absently that the girls had followed him out here, as well, but this time they were too far away to hear more than the occasional giggle, and Obi-Wan was soon so absorbed in the difficult sequence of movements that he completely forgot about them.

Another hour and a half later, Obi-Wan finished the much-needed exercise, feeling finally calm and pleasantly relaxed and a bit weary after the strenuous workout. For a second, he simply stood there, looking to the horizon where the suns had disappeared quite some time ago. The disquiet he had felt earlier was not yet completely gone, but he felt much more at ease now.

Turning around to head back to the ship, he was a little startled to find all of the handmaidens assembled on the ground in front of the ship. Most of them had an expression of awe and admiration on their faces, staring wide-eyed at him. With a pang of mortification, Obi-Wan realized that this had probably not been the best course of action to get rid of the unwanted attention he got from the females on the ship. He shrugged. It certainly was too late to do anything about that now, and he had really needed the exercise. Now he would have to deal with the consequences, though he couldn't imagine how the situation could get any more uncomfortable for him.

Still resolved to handle the situation like a true Jedi, Obi-Wan nonchalantly picked up his robe that was miraculously still lying on the ground where he had left it. Maybe he was simply a bit paranoid and was imagining things about the handmaidens. They were probably just as bored as he was and considered watching a bit of lightsaber-wielding a welcome entertainment.

Shaking the sand from the folds of the plain brown fabric, he made his way back to the shuttle. He was looking forward to taking a shower, even though on this dry and dusty planet it would have to be a sonic shower. They were not nearly as refreshing as if you used real water, but they got you clean all right. One just had to be careful not to turn the device up too much or all the cells in one's body would start popping, and that was not exactly advisable if one intended to stay alive.

For a moment, Obi-Wan wished for his spare clothes which had probably exploded along with the Republic shuttle that had taken them to the negotiations with the Trade Federation. As it would have been disturbingly unusual for these garments to materialize in front of him just because a certain Jedi Padawan wished for it, he would have to clean the ones he was wearing, once again without any water.

Fortunately, the Jedi had a few tricks up their sleeves for such occasions.

Unfortunately, these tricks were for some reason in the restricted part of the Archives – Yoda adamantly claimed that overly clean clothes led to the Dark Side, so usually Padawans were not trusted with this dangerous knowledge. The clothes would have to be cleaned by the miracles technology provided instead.

Coming out of the fresher after the shower, Obi-Wan was relieved to find the corridor deserted. Still, he didn't want to give in to the cowardly voice that whispered he would be safest in the cockpit, and so he decided to spend at least part of the evening in one of the smaller common rooms. There was only one of the girls in there; Obi-Wan remembered that she had been introduced as Sabé. The Padawan bravely faced this unknown threat, once again resorting to a polite bow as the accepted way of greeting. For a moment, it seemed like Sabé would leave him in peace. As he walked past her to take a look at the holobooks on the other side of the room, she raised her head as if sampling the air. All at once she looked like a predatory animal smelling her prey, nostrils flaring. In a matter of seconds, she was standing next to Obi-Wan, once again taking a deep breath. This seemed to confirm something she had suspected as she suddenly advanced on the unsuspicious Padawan.

Slowly, confusedly, Obi-Wan backed away from the intent stare of Sabé until he was standing with his back against the wall. Still not entirely sure what all this was about, as this frightening female had yet to say anything, he noticed that she had efficiently robbed him of all escape routes.

Berating himself for this lapse in awareness – a Jedi should have done better than be cornered by a handmaiden, however frightening she was – Obi-Wan unexpectedly found said handmaiden's arms wrapped firmly around his neck, her face pressed to his chest.

For a few moments he was completely caught off guard by this unheralded attack. As he realized his predicament, Obi-Wan turned a deep red, shocked into immobility. Before he could protest, however, Sabé looked up at him, a triumphant smile on her face.

"I knew even Jedi could not be immune to our female charms!"

Before she could say anything else, Obi-Wan interrupted her while trying to unwind her arms from around his neck.

"I don't… how did you get the impression… I didn't mean to encourage… What made you think so? I'm sorry, but I don't… Jedi are not allowed attachments," he finally finished a bit helplessly, succeeding in getting the girl off him. Somehow, Obi-Wan got the feeling that he must have done something to elicit this kind of behaviour from Sabé, though he was at a complete loss as to what that might have been – or maybe it was just the whole "it's all Obi-Wan's fault"-thing getting to him.

Sabé's eyes, which had been shining with bliss just seconds ago, now flashed up at him dangerously. Her lips pressed into a thin line, giving testimony to the anger Obi-Wan's words and actions had stirred in her. For a second, they simply stared at each other, the furious handmaiden and the utterly bewildered Padawan.

Then, to both their surprise, Sabé's hand shot out to slap him in the face, but thankfully the Force had enough decency to warn Obi-Wan so that he managed to duck just in time.

Sabé was just so furious with him! Using stupid Jedi rules as a feeble excuse when she could still smell Gertrudé on him! That was her favourite perfume on his robes, she was sure of it. Sabé herself found it a bit too flowery and sweet, but still she would recognize her scent anywhere after having to share a room with her on the ship. Gertrudé used that fragrance in such copious amounts that you could still smell her even after she had left a room. And now that scent was all over _her_ Obi-Wan. That told her more than she had to know. She didn't even want to imagine what these two had been doing. At first she had thought that maybe the Jedi was now also open to her advances and that she could easily compete with Gertrudé, but his reaction shattered her hope of having any chance with him.

The only reaction she got from Obi-Wan was an even more confused and slightly helpless expression. She wondered why men were just so _dense_ sometimes.

"I bet you didn't say that to Gertrudé!" she screamed. "Why her? What's so special about her? What does she have that I don't? Okay, so her hair is a bit longer and silkier than mine. So what? I have other merits. I am taller as well as thinner. My taste is so much better than hers. My eyes are the most beautiful ones of all the handmaidens (at least that's what I get told regularly). So why did you pick her instead of me? I thought maybe it was just confusion on your part because surely you would want me instead of her, but when you pushed me away so bluntly just now…"

With that her rant subsided and she started sobbing inconsolably.

Obi-Wan struggled to make sense from what he had just heard. He couldn't figure out for the life of him what he had done to deserve this, much less what it meant. He vaguely remembered that Gertrudé was another one of the handmaidens, but he had no clue whatsoever what she or her physique - or Sabé's physique, for that matter - had to do with this outburst.

But whatever this was about, Sabé seemed genuinely miserable and really upset, tears streaming down her sad face. Obi-Wan cautiously placed a hand on her shoulder to console her and try to get her to calm down a bit.

He didn't have that much experience with crying females, but he would do his best to comfort her and find out what all of this was all about. From what little he had gathered from her tirade, she blamed him for something, so it was probably best if he asked for her forgiveness first.

"I am so sorry," he said softly, though he had no idea what he was apologizing for. For a moment he felt like asking if Anakin was the father, but with a shake of his head he discarded this crazy notion. Just because she was being irrational didn't mean that he had to respond in kind.

Sabé seemed not to have heard him.

"Please don't cry. I am sure that we can sort it out if you tell me what's bothering you," he promised.

The distraught handmaiden said with hitching breaths: "As… as if you don't know! Surely you must have noticed the looks I – and the other girls as well, for that matter - have been giving you over the past day and a half. And you ignored us. You hid from us, don't think we didn't notice. I thought it was just that you were a bit shy and insecure about the whole thing, and we forgave you because we found it cute."

Obi-Wan couldn't help but flinch at that comment.

"But to think that you fed all of us with these stupid Jedi platitudes! You are not allowed attachments, my arse. Then what do you call what you have with Gertrudé?"

Obi-Wan would have truthfully answered that what he had with Gertrudé was commonly called a remote aquaintance, but he considered it prudent to keep that remark to himself at the moment. He still wasn't sure what Sabé was implying, but he had a growing suspicion.

Obi-Wan decided to address the subject Sabé had mentioned that he felt he had at least understood.

"I am truly sorry if I should have hurt you with my admittedly rather detached behaviour towards you. I was and am still not entirely comfortable with the situation. My Master always chides me for worrying too much, and yet that's what I have been doing a lot for the last few days."

He tried to smile reassuringly at Sabé. She had stopped sobbing and was gingerly wiping away her tears. Obi-Wan was glad that his attempt at reassurance was working, even though he still felt ill at ease with the situation and puzzled by Sabé's behaviour.

"And I am truly sorry that you got any wrong impressions about… me and Gertrudé." Obi-Wan guessed he had at least understood enough to grasp that Sabé was accusing him of having an attachment. "I don't…"

"What, you don't? You mean you don't have an affair with Gertrudé?"

Obi-Wan cringed at that thought.

"No, I don't," he answered.

"But – I can smell her on you!"

Obi-Wan frowned in puzzlement for a minute before he laughed nervously. "Oh, you refer to the smell. That's quite an unusual story. You see, the Trade Federation tried to poison us with toxic gas, but somehow they must have mixed up the buttons and so tried to poison us with perfume instead. When we came to Naboo, we practically reeked like a whole bouquet. Thankfully, the smell has dissipated somewhat since then, but it's not quite gone yet," Obi-Wan told her, hugely relieved that it had apparently all been a mistake.

Sabé frowned at him doubtfully. Obi-Wan had to admit that even to him it sounded like a feeble excuse.

Apparently, Sabé thought so, too, because after a moment of tense silence, she gave an infuriated shriek and once again slapped the apprehensive Padawan. This time, though, Obi-Wan was too preoccupied to avoid it and with a satisfying smack Sabé's hand connected with his left cheek. "That's for telling such a silly lie! If you don't want me, just tell me so. Don't you dare make fun of me! I was being serious! Don't play with my feelings!" With another furious glower, she stormed from the room.

Obi-Wan still stood in the corner, rubbing his left cheek absently. It was still stinging a bit and a red mark was developing quickly. He hung his head in dismay. He had no idea how to deal with this and fervently wished that his Master was here to help him understand how all of this could have happened. Why did women have to be so very complicated and irrational when it came to men?

The Padawan decided that he would have to meditate on how to avoid similar predicaments in the future. He decided to retire to the room that had been assigned to him and his Master on the ship to circumvent further confrontations with the incomprehensible creatures that are women.

As fast as possible, he left the common room, stretching out with the Force to find out whether there was someone in the hallway. He didn't feel like having another conversation that utterly confused him from the beginning and included someone dissolving into tears. And to be honest, he didn't particularly enjoy being slapped, either.

His escape route to both the cockpit and his room were cut off by the perilous females that also inhabited the spaceship, and facing any one of them was the last thing Obi-Wan intended to be doing right now. Although Jedi didn't avoid complications, they also knew when they were defeated and that a tactical retreat was often wiser than continued exposure to hazardous conditions.

Tentatively he opened the hatch of the ship, prepared to slam it shut instantly should the storm rage outside again, but to his enormous relief it had died down for good, and the night outside was almost chilly, but quiet.

Quickly, Obi-Wan left the security of the ship and closed the hatch. He listened to the footsteps passing by the entrance to the spaceshuttle. For a second, he considered going back inside, but the wind had stopped entirely. After the sweltering heat of the day, the cool night air was a welcome relief, and out here he could meditate without interruption. The stars seemed a lot brighter here than on Coruscant. Obi-Wan knew that this was due to the high levels of artificial illumination and the thick layers of pollution that wrapped the city planet in a thick layer of smog.

He smiled as he remembered the explanation Qui-Gon had given him when he had first remarked about the fact years ago. His Master had stated that this was due to the fact that on the poorer planets people often tried to earn a bit of money, for example by polishing shoes or the windows of speeders or, apparently, also the stars. He had said it with so much confidence in his voice, as if it was the most natural thing in the universe, that he had even managed to get Obi-Wan to think about the possibility for a moment. Since then, many years had passed, and he had grown used to the eccentric - and occasionally absurd - things his Master would say.

With that memory on his mind, Obi-Wan looked towards the city where his Master was probably enjoying dinner right now. Then he once again scanned the area around the cruiser that was gleaming silvery in the starlight (not that it did anything different by daylight or any other time of the day as long as the hyperdrive was still broken). For miles around it was still as flat and featureless as it had been that afternoon. With a sinking feeling in his stomach, Obi-Wan realized that should anyone come looking for him out here, they would spot him immediately. But then he had a good idea. He walked back towards the ship, but didn't open the hatch and enter the ship. Instead, he leapt high in the air and landed on the smooth surface of the space cruiser with nary a sound. He found a comfortable spot – as comfortable as the hard surface of a spaceship had to offer, anyway – and sat down. Closing his eyes and calming his mind, he finally found the calm to properly meditate.

oOo

Edited on 3rd January, 2011


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

Disclaimer: Christmas is over, and still nothing belongs to me. I guess I wasn't a good girl, then… Oh, and I don't own Chuck Norris ;-)

oOo

_Excellent!_

That was the feeling that had frequently been revisiting Palpatine's conscious thoughts for the whole day. And he had every right to feel that way, since _excellent_ excellently described the way his plans were coming to fruition. Ever since he had killed his late Master Darth Plagueis, he had worked towards his ultimate goals - yes, plural, that's right. Not only would he be the legal ruler of the Galaxy's more important parts in just a few days, he had also finally found the courage to send a copy of the book he had written to a publisher and had high hopes that it would be accepted and printed soon.

Palpatine had been working on that piece of ingenuity for a long time, but even after re-editing and changing it he had not felt courageous enough to expose it to the harsh opinion of the public (soon to be his subjects, but they didn't' know that, after all). The thing he had agonized about the most was the title of his book, because he was acutely aware of the fact that the title was the thing that would have to draw a client's attention to one single book amidst thousands of others arranged on a bookshelf if it was to have any success. So he had mulled over 'All hail me – the Future Ruler of the Galaxy' and 'How to Become the Most Powerful Being Ever', but then he had finally settled on 'Darth Sidious' Ten Step Guide to Galactic Dominion'. He thought it sounded pretty spiffy.

With that kind of title, he would not only attract the attention of the right readers, but simultaneously ensure that no Jedi would ever dare touch it for fear of the Dark Side – or, failing that, for fear of a certain small green Jedi Master who would whack everyone insensitive with that infamous walking stick of his if he so much as imagined that the suspect had even looked at it an amount of time that surpassed the infinitesimal time slot that had been deemed safe to look at such a vile thing as a book by any Dark Side user.

Palpatine strolled down the large, gloomy corridors of his Sith lair. He had donned the overly large, even-blacker-than-the-void-of-space robe because it gave him such a pleasantly menacing air when it was billowing and flapping behind him as he walked.

Beside him walked his apprentice, Darth Maul, also wrapped in a huge black cloak, which only heightened the red stripes on the Zabrak's face and the eerie yellow glow in his eyes.

Once again, Palpatine marvelled at the way everything was working out for him. "Excellent, excellent," he murmured, his voice dripping with equal parts satisfaction and venom.

"My Master?" Darth Maul inquired respectfully, pleased that his Master sounded so complacent but curious as to the reason for Sidious' good mood.

"You still have much to learn, my apprentice. Your voice has to sound a lot raspier and darker if you want to become a proper Sith Lord. Now try again."

"Yes, my Master." Darth Maul cleared his throat and then repeated "My Master?" straining to sound as sithly as possible.

"Yes, that was much better." Sidious smiled evilly, completely ignoring the implied question his apprentice had asked. He certainly had no intention of telling Darth Maul about his plans, especially since they included replacing his current menacing and truly evil-looking apprentice with a small, bright-eyed child with a brilliant smile who looked about as non-threatening as they come but whom he would in time turn into the darkest, most evil creature imaginable.

So instead, Sidious said: "Ah, I see you've been working on your sithly voice. You've become much better. Soon, you will be ready to face the Jedi. But you are not sufficiently prepared yet. Let me hear your sinister maniacal laugh again."

Once again Darth Maul obediently cleared his throat, set his striped features into his best dark glower, cleared his throat again, slightly nervous this time, and then let lose a loud "bwahahahaha". He even remembered to do the correct gestures this time (one hand balled to a fist, the other claw-like and shaking to the rhythm of the laughter).

Still, Sidious pursed his lips disapprovingly and shook his head to express his displeasure.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. You should have paid more attention to your old (but still good-looking and very virile) Master. The correct expression for evil and maniacal laughter is 'mwahahahaha', of course. What you did was more the gloating kind. You may employ this one if you manage to first stab a Jedi Master and then throw his apprentice into a bottomless pit. Just make sure to be careful when you do that because it might turn out that the apprentice will hang on to some kind of protrusion in the wall of the pit and will try to use his fallen Master's lightsaber to cut you into pieces after jumping out of the pit. It would be a pity to lose you on you first proper mission after I spent so many years training you to become a mediocre Sith. Sure, you look like a real bad guy, but to be defeated by some pathetic Padawan would just be the height of shame, and I think even mediocre is too good a word to use for someone as incompetent as that. Ah, the disgrace! To be cut down by such a weak little Jedi whelp! Should this happen, it would be better you die instantly because you couldn't live with the shame – I would make sure of that."

"None of these Jedi weaklings will ever be able to defeat me, my Master. They shall face the awesome power of the Dark Side and perish! The Sith shall return and have their revenge. We have been patient for many years, working concealed, in the dark, to sow the seeds of mistrust and corruption. And in the end we shall have unlimited power!" Darth Maul finished, his voice firm and full of conviction. His Master had indoctrinated him well.

But Darth Sidious failed to be duly impressed.

"Whoa, such a pompous one! Small wonder he wasn't given more lines in this movie. No one could bear to listen to any more of this pretentious rambling. He won't even live long enough to see the end of this episode and fails to see his own utter insignificance. I have truly done a great job to instill arrogance in him," Sidious mumbled to himself.

Then he addressed his apprentice. "You will go to Tatooine and find the Queen and her Jedi protectors. Everything is going according to my plans – although I have to wonder how we found out they are on Tatooine. Let's just assume that thanks to my unending genius we had a tracking device installed on the silver space ship they have taken and that the Jedi were too dumb to look for one. Make sure to find them quickly before anyone manages to pick up my next apprentice. Should he fall into the hands of the Jedi, I shall be most displeased."

His voice still in Sith mode, Darth Maul answered: "Tatooine is sparsely populated. If the trace was correct, I will find them quickly, Master."

Darth Sidious, not to be outdone in sounding like a Sith, instructed in a raspy and slightly nasal voice: "Move against the Jedi first. You will then have no difficulty in taking the Queen to Naboo to sign the treaty. I'm counting on your incompetence to fail in that task, because we don't actually want the Trade Federation to gain legal authority over Naboo. This is just for show, so scare them a bit and kill as many Jedi as you possibly can, but don't actually succeed in bringing Padmé back to Naboo. We still need her here on Coruscant for that vote of no confidence. Oh, and while you're at it, please set up a few of these 'Vote for Palpatine'-posters."

Darth Maul nodded solemnly. "At last we will reveal ourselves to the Jedi. At last we will have revenge."

"Duh, you just said that. And please don't reveal yourself to the Jedi; I don't think they would want to see that. Remember, a Sith always keeps his clothes on in public. But you have been well-trained, my young apprentice. They will be no match for you. But please remember what I told you about laughing at pathetic apprentices hanging from sheer walls. It would be a shame to lose you after all the years of training I invested in you. And now off you go to find your doom… erm, I mean your targets."

With a stony-faced bow, Darth Maul took his leave and strode towards his custom-made spherical spaceship.

oOo

On Tatooine, while Obi-Wan was unsuccessfully trying to meditate whilst being surrounded by all those handmaidens, Padmé, Anakin, Shmi, Qui-Gon and Jar Jar were just finishing dinner.

The topic of their conversation once again gave testament to yet another social blunder of Jar Jar's. They were discussing the slave status of their hosts.

"All slaves have a transmitter placed inside their bodies somewhere," Shmi explained as she refilled the cups on the table.

"I've been working on a scanner to try and locate mine." Anakin didn't let the opportunity to boast of his mechanical skills slip by unused.

Shmi continued: "Any attempt to escape-"

"-and they blow you up. BOOM!" Anakin finished, slapping his hand on the table.

Shmi could only shake her head at her son's tale. True, it was customary to tell 'outsiders' nightmarish tales about slavery in the vain hope that someone would finally do something about it, but this had maybe been a bit overdramatic. Also true, they had a transmitter which was usually disguised as an earring, but that was only used for locating and not for blowing up. After all, it would be really stupid of any slaveholders to blow up what they considered to be their property.

Still, Anakin's claim seemed to have impressed the strangers.

"How wude!" Jar Jar was outraged at the notion of perfectly serviceable people being blown to smithereens.

Padmé also looked shaken and upset. "I can't believe there's still slavery in the galaxy. The Republic's antislavery laws –"

"The Republic doesn't exist out here. We must survive on our own," Shmi informed her matter-of-factly.

Qui-Gon wondered how Padmé could not know that, seeing as she lived on a planet in such close proximity to Tatooine that they could traverse the distance even with a smashed hyperdrive. She must have been raised really sheltered and was probably very naïve and also a bit ignorant. Not exactly what was valued in a politician. Qui-Gon shrugged. Her luck that she was just a handmaiden, then.

Jar Jar's tongue flicked out and snatched one of the fruit from a bowl on the table.

"Xcuse me," he mumbled as he caught the stern look Qui-Gon threw him.

"Has anybody ever seen a podrace?" Anakin asked. From the look in his eyes one could tell that he had something specific on his mind, though what his ultimate purpose was still eluded Qui-Gon.

"They have podracing on Malastare. Very fast, very dangerous," he answered dutifully, curious as to where Anakin was headed with this.

That was exactly what Anakin wanted to hear. "I'm the only human who can do it."

Had Yoda heard that, he wouldn't have been able to stop saying that arrogance leads to the Dark Side for the next three and a half days.

"You must have Jedi reflexes if you race pods," Qui-Gon said, demonstrating said reflexes as he caught Jar Jar's tongue in mid-air as the Gungan once again tried to snatch up a piece of fruit with it.

"Don't do that again," he chided.

"You're a Jedi Knight, aren't you?" Anakin asked.

"Oh no, now you've blown my cover. What gave me away? Was it the hair? Was it my constantly phoning my apprentice to talk about Jedi stuff? Was it my showing off supernatural skills?"

Anakin shrugged. "Yes, that too. Where did you get those reflexes?"

Qui-Gon leaned back in his seat with an amused smile on his face. "Perhaps I killed a Jedi and took it from him."

Padmé looked shocked. "You killed someone? How could you! And a fellow Jedi, at that!" Then she shrieked as a revelation hit her. "It's not Obi-Wan, is it? Your own apprentice? You couldn't have killed him! That's horrible! And besides, I still need him to… um, protect me."

The voice of reason to calm the horrified girl down was Shmi. "That's rubbish. You can't steal a person's reflexes, not even if you kill them."

After a short contemplative silence where everyone pondered the possibility or rather impossibility of stealing someone's reflexes, Anakin chimed in: "I saw your laser sword! Only Jedis carry that kind of weapon."

"Perhaps I killed a Jedi and took it from him," Qui-Gon repeated.

Before Padmé could start screaming groundlessly again, Anakin interject with all the conviction of naivety and youth present in his expression: "I don't think so. No one can kill a Jedi."

"I wish that were so," Qui-Gon said quietly. "Then I wouldn't have to die at the end of this movie."

"I had a dream I was a Jedi. I came back here and freed all the slaves. I also had a dream I was a slice of delicious pizza with extra cheese, and Jabba the Hutt ate me. That one was weird. But not as bad as the one where I was that really awesome guy called Chuck Norris. I did lots of awesome and impossible things, like doing all these roundhouse kicks to all kinds of people. Or the one where I was reading a book. That one was weird. I believe that book was called "Darth Sidious' Ten Step Guide to Galactic Dominion" or some such stuff. Sounds like it was written by some really smart guy. But the best one was where I got turned into a fluffy pink piece of cloud and flew all over the bright blue sky of Tatooine until some cloud catcher caught me and fed me with miniature pizza slices with extra cheese (you know the ones Jabba likes so much) until I exploded. I woke up screaming after that one, it was just too terrifying. Do you think these were prophetic dreams? I hope not, it would scare the crap out of me. Have you come to free us?"

It took a few moments for Qui-Gon's head to stop spinning from Anakin's gushing way of talking and quick change of topic. When he had recovered enough for coherent speech, he regretfully said: "No, I'm afraid not."

"I think you have. Why else would you be here? There is nothing more important here on Tatooine than me. In fact there is nothing more important in the entire universe than me. So naturally you must have come to free me, you just haven't realized that yet. What else would you want here? Except for my presence, Tatooine is probably the most boring planet in the whole Galaxy, the only interesting thing about it is me. This by definition makes it the most interesting planet in the whole Galaxy, because I am so interesting that the average amount of importance of Tatooine is still higher than that of any other planet. But that's just because of me. When I'm gone, this planet will revert back to being extremely dull once again. So you really must be lying when you say that you didn't come because of me. I am of infinite significance! Even though I neither understand the word 'infinite' nor 'significance'. But they sound really important and befitting for someone as grand as me."

"I can see there's no fooling you, Anakin. But that won't stop me from trying! We're on our way to Coruscant, the central system in the Republic on a very important mission. Granted, that might be neither as important nor as interesting as you, but it's my job and I have to do it."

Anakin looked doubtful. The Galaxy revolved around him, so why didn't Qui-Gon? But Anakin vowed to make sure that he would change that in no time.

"How did you end up here in the outer rim?"

Padmé decided to answer since Qui-Gon was too busy wondering how such a slender and fragile neck could possibly support a head as big as Anakin's and whether said head would someday burst from the sheer pressure that much hot air must invariably put on the child's skull.

"Our ship was damaged and we're stranded here until we can repair it."

Anakin's face was still scrunched up in a slight frown. He still couldn't see how this was not about him, but he decided to rectify that as soon as possible.

"I can help. I can fix anything. Even stuff that's completely gone. Like fizzling scraps on the floor, I can build you a whole new hyperdrive out of that. No problem at all."

"I believe you can. And it's not as if I had a perfectly capable apprentice back at the ship who would surely by now have repaired the hyperdrive if it were that easy. So first we must acquire the parts we need."

"Wit no-nutten mula to trade," Jar Jar added mournfully.

Padmé also looked a bit downcast. "These junk dealers must have a weakness of some kind."

Once again, Shmi gave her a healthy dose of reality. "Gambling. Everything here revolves around betting on those awful races."

"Podracing. Greed can be a powerful ally," Qui-Gon stated.

Anakin didn't know anyone called Greed, but one of his friends (the green guy with the bulbous black eyes and the snout) was called Greedo. But Anakin didn't want Greedo to be a powerful ally. He wanted to be the powerful ally himself! And he would be! Given enough time and even only half an opportunity, he would gain unlimited power.

"I built a racer. It's the fastest ever!" _Take that, Greedo! Trying to steal away my friends._

"There's a big race tomorrow on Boonta Eve. Strange, what a coincidence that this great race takes place right when you come to Tatooine. You could enter my pod."

"Anakin, Watto won't let you," his mother cut in.

"Watto doesn't know I've built it. You could make him think it was yours and get him to let me pilot it for you." Anakin almost sounded whiny.

But his mother would have none of it. "I don't want you to race. It's awful! I die every time Watto makes you do it."

"But, Mom, I love it!" This time, the whine in Anakin's voice was more pronounced. "And besides, you die in the next Episode, anyway. It doesn't make such a big difference, you know, I'll just turn to the Dark Side a few years early, and it saves you the pain of the torture by the Sand People. And it's not like you can die multiple times. So if you are already dead from my previous races, then you can't possibly die again when I'll do it tomorrow. And I think that you're a bit overdramatic. The races are really very dangerous and require an exceptional amount of skill to do it, of course, but for me they are really easy. You know that I have the ability to turn the merely difficult into something impossible… or something like that. The prize money would more than pay for the parts they need."

Anakin gave his mother the pleading puppy-eyed look.

Still, Shmi wouldn't give in. "Anakin!" she scolded.

"Your mother's right," Qui-Gon agreed. "Is there anyone friendly to the Republic who can help us?"

Shmi shook her head apologetically. "No."

That was not exactly the answer everyone had been hoping for.

But Anakin hadn't given up yet. "Mom, you say the biggest problem in this universe is nobody helps each other." When even that in combination with his most pleading look didn't achieve the desired effect with his mother, Anakin was at the end of his repertoire. Usually, when he gave her that look, his mom would allow him almost anything.

"I'm sure Qui-Gon doesn't want to put your son in danger. We'll find some other way," Padmé said. She thought that it was not exactly a very good idea to put all their hopes in a small child they had met just this afternoon. For all they knew, he could be a loony little show-off who lived in a world of his own, and that world evidently differed considerably from reality.

"No. There is no other way. I may not like it, but he can help you," Shmi agreed. "He was meant to help you."

Qui-Gon frowned pensively. To convince Shmi had been easier that he had feared. He hadn't even needed a Force suggestion. Pity, he was rather fond of those. Still, he had thought that the death-defying stunts and horrific accidents that were commonplace at such races would have a mother shrieking in fear for her offspring, especially when the person piloting such a powerful pod was only nine years old. Not that he would complain, it saved him a lot of trouble. With a shrug and a gentle smile, he also agreed to the plan. After all, it fit his intentions perfectly.

oOo

Edited on 3rd January, 2011


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

Author's note: In this chapter, I introduced a kind of challenge I set myself. I asked my reviewers to send me words they would like to see included in the next chapter, and I used these words in the most creative and humorous fashion I could think of. The words you, my esteemed readers, sent me are all in here somewhere. I marked these challenge-words in bold. Thank you for all the creative and awesome words you sent me! This kind of interactive experiment worked out so well that I kept it up until the end of this story. Unfortunately, kept deleting some of the really long words, so I had to separate them by hyphens to keep them in.

Disclaimer: I don't even own all the words in there, so no chance that I own any of the characters or anything else, for that matter.

oOo

Boom

Boom

Boom

THUD

_Racket? What?_ Obi-Wan wondered, his mind still more than half asleep.

The source of the booming sound soon became apparent as it was repeated after a few seconds.

Boom

Boom

Boom

Someone was knocking on the door to Obi-Wan's cabin – or rather pounding on it, judging by the way the walls vibrated with the noise.

Sitting up, Obi-Wan also learned the reason for the thud. He had fallen out of the narrow bunk he had been sleeping on. Still a bit disoriented, he rubbed his eyes to gain some semblance of wakefulness. He had not slept exactly well.

"Are you awake yet?" a vaguely impatient voice, which was muffled by the thin but solid metal walls of the ship, asked.

"Yes, I am," Obi-Wan answered. Then, quietly so that the person outside the door wouldn't hear, he added: "And thanks a lot for being so darn gentle about it. Why not just barge in with a whole orchestra?"

"Good. Then get out of bed immediately, you have a job to do, after all."

Obi-Wan finally identified the grumpy voice as Captain Panaka's. What did the man want? Why was the head of security throwing him out of bed at - Obi-Wan squinted at the clock –three thirty in the morning! The word _Emergency_ flashed through the Padawan's mind. Maybe they were attacked by Tusken Raiders or even a Krayt dragon or two. He scrambled to his feet, put on his tunic and robe with flying fingers and slipped his feet into his boots. Within seconds, he was at the door.

Panaka looked positively stunned when the door unexpectedly opened a few seconds after he finished speaking and a now fully alert Obi-Wan strode out, looking at him expectantly. They immediately took off towards the cockpit.

"Good morning, Captain. What's the emergency?" the Padawan inquired pleasantly, wondering why the Force hadn't warned him as it usually did.

The Captain remained silent for a few steps, and then simply stated "They are gone."

Even though Obi-Wan had successfully wrenched his brain out of the sleepy state it currently wanted to be in, it took him a few moments to work out what the Captain was telling him, and that this was indeed not very good news.

He used the Force to locate all the occupants of the ship and with a sinking feeling realized that three of the handmaidens were missing. What a useless kind of Jedi first fell out of bed and on top of that didn't notice when three of the people he was supposed to protect were snatched from right under his nose? His Master had just been gone for a few hours and he had already managed to bungle things up spectacularly. Well, since he hadn't been able to protect them, the least thing he could do was save them from whoever had captured them.

Before Obi-Wan could think of anything to say, Panaka told him to his enormous relief that he knew exactly where the missing girls were. That relief was swiftly replaced by exasperation and disbelief when Obi-Wan learned that Sabé, Gertrudé and Dormé had not been abducted at all but had taken the small yet luxurious landspeeder that was usually waiting in the ship's garage for occasions such as day trips or pleasure cruises. It seemed the handmaidens had grown bored with sitting around and waiting for Obi-Wan to emerge from his various hiding places and so had decided that it was high time to pursue their favourite pastime: Shopping!

Since it was in the middle of the night where their ship was parked, they had taken the small but potent speeder and had rushed off to the dayside of the planet, determined to follow the twin suns around Tatooine to explore the local shops.

Obi-Wan didn't know what to say. Whatever he had expected, it wasn't that. He wouldn't have minded abductions, attacks or wild beasts. After all, he had been trained to handle that kind of difficulties, and he felt capable of dealing with any attacks or threats that might arise.

But he didn't feel ready to deal with a few teenaged girls, and he strongly suspected that no matter how many years he spent in this universe, he never would. If ever his Padawan should father twins and for some ghastly reason he would have to take care of one of them, he would make sure to pick the boy. Although this boy would probably be whiny and not exactly bright (being Anakin's child, after all), at least Obi-Wan wouldn't have to deal with a snappy and emotional young girl, especially seeing as she would inherit Anakin's temper and overestimation of his abilities.

Confusedly, Obi-Wan shook his head to dispel these disturbing thoughts. There he was again, picturing this highly unlikely future when he should be figuring out how to deal with his current debacle.

Only that he couldn't even fathom how the combined brains of three people had obviously not been enough to tell their owners that it was very unwise to indulge in shopping under the circumstances. It was not like this was a pleasure cruise, after all. Yet it seemed nobody had told the handmaidens about that.

Obi-Wan decided to remedy that in the fastest and most unequivocal way possible. After he retrieved them from their outing, that was.

Obi-Wan was still a bit puzzled as to how he was supposed to accomplish that, so he turned to Captain Panaka. The man was the Queen's head of security; he should be used to getting the girls back from shopping malls.

Panaka noticed the Padawan's quizzical look and immediately held up his hands in a gesture as if to fend off something evil.

"Oh no. No, no, no, no, no! Don't you look at me like that. After all, it ain't my job to look after the girls. That's what you're here for, remember?"

"Well, technically, it IS your job, and I'm here for the negotiations which unfortunately were… prematurely terminated," Obi-Wan informed the Captain.

"No! Don't you get all wordy on me, Mister Fancy Pants! Stop using such huge words. And I can't possibly come with you. It's not that I don't want to. I really regret that I can't come with you. Really, I can't. I suffer from **hippo-poto-mostrosequippedalo-phobia**. My doctor told me to avoid situations where I might be exposed to conditions that could cause a seizure."

Obi-Wan looked undecided for a moment. Then, he took the Captain aside from the inquisitive ears of the handmaidens who had come out to check what all this racket in the middle of the night was about and asked quietly: "Are you seriously trying to tell me that you suffer from hippo-poto-mostrosequippedalo-phobia?"

He gave the Captain a piercing look.

Panaka shifted uncomfortably under the critical gaze. He lowered his eyes for a moment, but then seemed to reach some decision and nodded.

_The verbose boy won't be able to figure out this big word, will he?_ Panaka worried.

Unfortunately for Panaka, Obi-Wan could.

"So you can't come along because you are terribly afraid of long words?" the Padawan asked incredulously.

"Umm, yes."

An uncomfortable moment of silence was followed by two more uncomfortable moments of silence before Obi-Wan asked: "So how exactly were you able to pronounce the name for your alleged condition without a moderately sized panic attack?" He did so with a completely straight face, but the mischievous twinkle in his eyes gave him away.

Panaka looked flabbergasted.

After a few seconds of thought, Obi-Wan's eyes lit up with comprehension and he gave Panaka an impish smile.

"I see. So this is the excuse you employ to **obfuscate** your true motives whenever you don't want to execute your Queen's orders?"

Panaka nodded feebly. Although he didn't understand half of what Obi-Wan had said, he could tell by the smile on the Padawan's face that he was exposed.

To his enormous relief, Obi-Wan just kept smiling good-naturedly and reassured him: "Don't worry; your secret is safe with me. I won't spill the beans. You just keep using that excuse; it's a rather good one. I don't think your girls will be able to work it out anytime soon. But if you want to take my advice, use it sparingly. You don't want to overexert it."

Panaka whispered a heartfelt "thank you". For a second, he had feared that he would have to make up a new reason why he couldn't oversee royal pyjama parties or come along to watch sappy romantic movies. So far, Padmé and her girls had been too overwhelmed and embarrassed to question the Captain's explanation every time he gave it, and Panaka intended to use it for as long as possible. He had one day opened an encyclopaedia at random and picked and memorized the word without actually checking what it meant. It would do as long as it sounded like a severe and complicated thing to suffer from. He had never expected that someone would look right through his ruse. But then again, it had been designed for impressionable young girls who were much too busy ogling young men and shopping to actually listen to their heads of security.

Obi-Wan, on the other hand, was not mad at all that the Captain didn't want to come along. After all, someone had to make sure that the remaining handmaidens stayed where they were and didn't get inspired by their colleagues' break for Tatooine's shopping malls, and the Padawan wouldn't have to deal with his cantankerous attitude.

With a slight nod to Panaka, Obi-Wan turned back to face the girls who had assembled around them. They had probably been roused by Panaka's gentle wake-up call and were now wondering what could warrant such a rumpus.

They were not happy to hear that the shopping madness had befallen their friends who had rushed off… without taking them along! After a rather stern reminder from Captain Panaka, they trudged back to bed, pouting.

Panaka then pressed a comm link into Obi-Wan's hand, but that was all the technical support he would get.

Now the Jedi stood outside the ship, staring off into the darkness, without a speeder, without a steed (be it reptilian or otherwise), without a swoop bike, in fact without any kind of transportation. He would even have taken a flying broomstick, but they were all out.

The shopping party had taken their last means of transport aside from the whole spaceship, which had been parked well away from any towns to escape notice _on purpose _and so would have to stay there, and a bongo, though Obi-Wan had yet to figure out how to make the drum transport people and if it actually worked that way at all.

Reluctantly, Obi-Wan took out his comm link and prayed to the Force or any powers that felt benevolent towards him that his Master had his comm link switched on and that Qui-Gon wouldn't bite his head off for interrupting his sleep or whatever it was he did whenever Obi-Wan wasn't around.

After about a minute of waiting, Qui-Gon actually answered the call, much to Obi-Wan's relief. The Jedi Master sounded sleepy and none too pleased to be awoken in the middle of the night, but at least he felt civil enough to grunt: "Whassup?"

"Master, it seems that three of the handmaidens felt they needed to get out more, so they took the speeder from the ship's garage and took off to do some shopping. Of course under the present circumstances that is not exactly the wisest thing to do, and we have to take into consideration that I can hardly protect them properly due to the huge amount of distance currently preventing me from correctly assisting - "

Qui-Gon interrupted him with another sleepy grunt. "Make sense, will ya? I'm still half asleep!"

"Master, I need a vehicle."

"Then why don't you just say so? Anakin's built a podracer. It's fast. It's somewhere in the backyard. Didn't have a look at it yet. But no one's gonna miss it if you bring it back by tomorrow morning. Have fun. Good night. And please turn off the light when you leave."

And with that cryptic remark, Qui-Gon once again prematurely ended the conversation, as seemed to be getting a habit with him, turned around and went back to snoring loudly and contentedly.

_A podracer. Marvellous! At least it's better than walking._ Obi-Wan mused. Although the Padawan had seen a few podraces, he had never actually steered one of the extremely high-speed machines, and from what he had seen, they were certainly ill-suited, if not illegal, for traffic off the racetrack. He didn't worry too much about being able to steer it, though. If Anakin (whoever that might be) could build a podracer, Obi-Wan was confident that he could drive it. At least it would be a fast way of travelling.

Qui-Gon had said it was somewhere in the back yard. Unfortunately, he had failed to mention which house the backyard belonged to, so Obi-Wan could only hope that it belonged to the house Qui-Gon was sleeping in because checking for podracers in every backyard of Mos Espa was certainly not an option.

Now he only had to walk to town, which would take about two hours. With a last look towards the ship where his admittedly not exactly comfortable but still sorely longed for bed was located, he set off at a brisk pace towards the dim lights of Mos Espa which illuminated the desert in the distance.

oOo

Darth Maul was bored. After an excessively boring flight from Coruscant which didn't offer any entertainment other than meditating or reading a copy of his Master's as-of-yet unpublished book, he had finally landed on Tatooine. At once, he had sent out the spy droids he had brought along. After all, the Jedi could be just about anywhere on this Force-forsaken planet, and Darth Maul didn't intend to search every town and farm by himself. Darth Sidious had only given him three of the black spheres, though, which meant he would still have to do some hunting himself. The Sith opted for searching all the bars and cantinas. Just because he had a mission to accomplish didn't mean he couldn't finally do something to alleviate his boredom.

So after he had sent the probe droids off, he jumped on his floating bike, switched on the radio, frowned at the dreadful music the JRS (= Jawa Radio Station) was broadcasting, switched the radio off again, kicked his bike into gear and drove off.

Still annoyed at the poor taste for music the Jawas obviously suffered from, he completely overlooked the cliff that was coming up. As he **careened** down the steep descend, he realized that his bike was capable of floating about a foot above the ground, but couldn't actually fly – a detail he had forgotten about in his disgust at the local music but which the ground that was approaching him with increasing velocity reminded him of.

With a little help from the Force the Zabrak managed to avoid the bigger rocks and **snaked** his way between the boulders. Still, the ride down the cliff was rather bumpy, and Darth Maul was glad when it was over and he reached a flat expanse of ground.

Speeding up, he swiftly drove off towards the nearest town, Mos Espa.

After the momentary excitement of his unexpected tumble off the hill, the Sith was quickly getting bored again. Driving through the featureless desert was not exactly exciting, and even less so when it was night and he couldn't see anything. Not that there was much to see, anyway, even when the suns were beating down on the monotonous plains. To Darth Maul, Tatooine really seemed to be the most boring planet in this quadrant of the Galaxy.

So he was inclined to slow down when he saw a solitary figure trudging through the endless sandy plains. Carefully, he studied the lone shadow wandering through the wilderness.

The being was tightly wrapped in his cloak, which was a sensible thing to do as it gets freezing at night in most deserts because the dry ground can't retain the heat of day. With the dark cloak and the hood drawn over his head, the wanderer looked remarkably like some kind of oversized Jawa.

Darth Maul was in the process of passing by the cloaked figure when he was struck by a few surprising thoughts Darth Sidious must never learn about. He decided that he needed a break from the daily routine of being evil, which would surely not please his Master.

_I wonder what he's doing here in the middle of the night. Must be either completely broke or really unfortunate to be walking around in the middle of nowhere. The poor __**bugger**__ even looks like he's wearing hand-me-downs from some Jedi! I can't imagine anyone would wear their strange clothes without need and these thrice-cursed Jedi only donate their clothes to people who are really hard-pressed to get some decent clothing of their own. _

That he might actually encounter one of these thrice-cursed Jedi in the middle of the Tatooine desert seemed so improbable that the thought didn't even cross the Sith's mind.

So, to his eternal surprise, Darth Maul (who is, as you will have noticed by now, not exactly the brightest light in the Galaxy) decided to offer this pathetic life form a lift.

The Sith stopped next to him and asked in his least sithly voice: "Hey, where you going? Need a lift?"

He didn't want to scare the man off, after all, not when he offered a chance at entertainment. Maybe he would even get bought a drink, as a kind of thank you for taking that guy to town.

Whatever he had expected as an answer, it was certainly not this. He had anticipated an answer that spoke of a simple mind (because let's face it, everyone trying to traverse the desert on foot any time of the day must be really dumb or a bit looney and probably drunk on top of that), delivered in the gruff tones of someone who had grown up around the shabby spaceports on Tatooine.

The answering voice, though, sounded cultured and the words would have been fitting for any kind of important social occasion.

"Thank you, I would appreciate that very much. It's very kind of you to offer me a ride, but I don't wish to cause any inconvenience to you," Obi-Wan answered, stunned that seemingly even he had luck from time to time. After a moment's thought and a good look at the person sitting on the bike – well as good a look as is possible in the nearly utter darkness of a night on Tatooine – he was no longer sure whether it was indeed luck. _There is no such thing as luck,_ he reminded himself.

The Jedi warily eyed the Sith, neither realizing whom he was talking to.

Miraculously, the biker still wore his hood drawn over his face, shading his features, though how it could have stayed there when the bike was speeding through the desert was a riddle to Obi-Wan, who didn't know about the little horns on the Zabrak's head keeping it in place.

In the dim moonlight, the Sith's face seemed to dissolve, the black parts vanishing in the shadow of the black hood. The only features that remained visible were the red stripes on his face, giving Obi-Wan the strange and unsettling impression that he was talking to an incomplete face that seemed to float in a seemingly empty hood without a discernible head attached to it.

The robe the biker wore was similar to Obi-Wan's own, except that it was black. Other than that, nothing else could be determined about the Sith's appearance.

Obi-Wan couldn't help but be suspicious of this unexpected offer. The person riding the swoop bike didn't exactly give the impression that he regularly helped people. Though he Padawan tried to not let the definite aura of malice or disquieting way the person's face looked in the moonlight influence his opinion (since it was unbecoming of a Jedi to judge someone by his looks alone) he didn't feel comfortable. Also he felt that it was probably wise not to look at the stranger with the Force, and instead settled on concealing his usually bright presence behind some thick shields. The biker didn't seem like a threat right now, but there it was again.

The feeling.

The bad feeling.

That bad feeling that seemed to have permanently moved in and found a cosy corner it liked somewhere in the Padawan's mind.

For a second, the image of a green lightsaber **slashing** through a similarly stripey-faced person flashed before Obi-Wan's eyes.

He took a calming breath and centred himself to be able to think rationally.

_Oh, stop it, this is getting old, _Obi-Wan admonished himself. _I'm just overreacting again. Qui-Gon is right, I should stop worrying so much, not centre on my anxieties and all that. It's not like a member of a presumably extinct order of dark warriors is likely to offer me a ride in the middle of this desert. This is probably just one of the usual thugs living somewhere around here, not a particularly lethal Sith. No imminent bad intention towards me, as is the case here, is probably as close as I can get to actual compassion on Tatooine. _

Obi-Wan could practically hear Qui-Gon telling him to keep his focus on the here and now, where it belonged, and that there was always a bigger fish. And as it was, here and now, Obi-Wan could really do with a ride.

"Nah, it's all right. You can buy me a drink as a reward for my help. So hop on!" Darth Maul said to Obi-Wan.

That request for a drink gave the offer the required selfish touch to make it sound authentic in these parts of the Galaxy, and so, pushing aside his misgivings with a shrug, Obi-Wan walked over to the idling bike and mounted behind its driver.

Darth Maul thought he detected a faint hint of girly perfume on the hitch hiker. He smiled slightly. This one was probably on his way to his girlfriend or on his way home from his girlfriend. Or maybe he was on his way from the home of his first girlfriend to the home of his second girlfriend. Darth Maul smiled a bit more.

As soon as Obi-Wan had found a secure hold on the bike, they zoomed off into the darkness.

oOo

"So where are you headed?" Darth Maul shouted above the rushing wind and the roaring engine. His boredom had not disappeared since he had picked up the traveller, who had stayed rather silent so far.

"-" The answer was spoken too quietly to be heard above the din.

"WHAT?"

"-!"

"WHAT?"

"I'M CHASING GIRLS!" Obi-Wan refrained from elaborating further, especially since he didn't feel like shouting till he was hoarse to have a conversation with someone he wasn't exactly inclined to talk to in the first place.

_Just what I guessed!_ Darth Maul thought with a satisfied smirk on his face, making him look positively terrifying. If Obi-Wan could have seen his face then, he would probably have re-examined that bad feeling and found it to have some justification, after all.

After a few more shouted tries at conversation, both men gave up. It was just too loud to properly talk to each other, and the wind seemed to rip their words away before they could properly utter them.

They had been hurtling through the inky night for just under fifteen minutes when they finally arrived at the edge of Mos Espa.

Darth Maul sharply pulled his vehicle to a stop in front of the first cantina they came across. They went into the murky room which was filled with smoke and the unpleasant smell of cheap beer. A few shady patrons were sitting in a dimly lit corner. Obi-Wan hurriedly put a few coins on the counter of the bar so that Darth Maul would get his drink; then he quickly and quietly left without another glance at the mysterious stranger who eagerly turned to the dubious pleasures Tatooine's cantinas had to offer.

oOo

Obi-Wan looked around. He had finally found the backyard Qui-Gon had mentioned.

In one corner, under a huge tarpaulin, there was a vaguely podracer-shaped structure. Glad that he had finally found the means to get the missing handmaidens back, he pulled aside the cover.

What he found there looked like a pile of rubbish at first glance. At second glance, it still looked like a pile of rubbish, and even by the third glance, it hadn't gotten any better.

This assembly of oddities couldn't possibly get anyone anywhere. The only place this thing would go was the waste disposal site, and even there it would have to be dragged every inch of the way. Sure, it vaguely resembled the usual layout of a podracer, but it mostly consisted of junk that was assembled to look like one.

The places where the turbines were supposed to be were taken by two dustbins without bottoms which were filled with loose wires, small pieces of mechanical scrap and what looked like the intestines of an antique **refrigerator** as the main power source – not that you could get any power out of that. Instead of a steering wheel, there was a video game control pad and a broken **sphygmomanometer** took the place of the speedometer. The seat was an old armchair which had lost most of its stuffing somewhere along the way. All of that was accumulated on top of an old and shabby piece of carpet. Obi-Wan once again came to the conclusion that this must be a pile of rubbish.

The Jedi looked around once again, but couldn't spot anything else that might be a podracer. As the first light of day slowly appeared in the sky, Obi-Wan sat down on a low wall and thought. After some minutes of trying to ignore bad feelings and futilely pondering his lack of transportation, Obi-Wan was startled out of his thoughts by the buzzing of his comm link.

Dutifully, the Padawan immediately answered the call.

It was Panaka, who informed him that the girls had called him with the request that someone please pick them up because they had run out of fuel. To Obi-Wan's enormous relief, they had only come as far as Mos Espa, where they had spent the last three hours at a shop that belonged to someone called Ben. That meant that Obi-Wan only had to find this Ben who owned the store and could then take the handmaidens back to the ship. Unlike with more common names such as Han, Shmi or Kra'wf-tor, Obi-Wan supposed that someone with the highly unusual name Ben shouldn't be too hard to find in a relatively small town such as Mos Espa. He would just ask any remotely friendly-looking person passing his way where he might find Ben's shop.

Obi-Wan was surprised by how easy it had been. The first person he had asked had been able to provide him with directions that would get him straight to this Ben he was looking for.

When he arrived at the described location, though, he wondered what the girls could possibly want from a real estate agent. Shrugging, he entered the small office.

Behind a desk which was cluttered with pens and piles of paper sat a tired-looking man who was shouting excitedly into his desktop comm link, loudly advertising the advantages of timeshare apartments. He looked slightly disheveled, his shirt was crumpled and his face already looked **moist** with perspiration. When he caught sight of an actual potential client standing in his office, he quickly hung up and turned to Obi-Wan.

"Ah, good morning, dear sir! How may I help you?" the real estate agent enquired, an overly friendly and clearly fake smile plastered on his face.

"Good morning," Obi-Wan answered. "If I may ask, are you Ben?" he asked, still not sure why the girls would be here. Neither could he see them in the tiny, cramped office.

"Yes, I am. I'm Ben, the owner or Ben's Real Estates, the best real estate agency on planet. I know, not exactly a creative name, but it serves my purposes. So could I interest you in one of the high-quality offers on sale today?"

"No, thank you very much, but I'm not interested in buying anything. I'm looking for three girls who got lost and told me to pick them up here. If they are here, would you tell them I've arrived, please?" Obi-Wan asked with another questioning glance around the small room.

Ben's fake smile did not waver when he answered: "I don't know anything about any girls. But you said you don't want to buy, so maybe you were thinking of renting something? How about a timeshare apartment? I have an especially nice one you will like very much. The offer only just came in yesterday, so you might want to buy it as long as it's still available. It's a nice, isolated hut out in the Jundland Wastes. It has a bedroom, a small kitchen and a nice little garden as well as its own power generator. Of course, nothing grows there in the garden, because it's out in the desert, but you could imagine all the nice flowers, it keeps the mind busy. The next neighbours live about half an hour's speeder journey away, and really these Sand People who occasionally turn up there are very nice people who genuinely suffer from the prejudices everyone has against them. Right now, some old guy known as Ben the crazy hermit lives there. But his timeshare contract runs out in about fifteen years or so, and then you could move in for approximately twenty years before it's the next person's turn. And you could save a lot of money if you buy it now. I've got a special offer: just 20.000 Republic credits, and the place will be yours in fifteen years…"

After three minutes of non-stop talking, Ben had to take a breath and Obi-Wan used the opportunity to say goodbye before the enthusiastic salesman could tell him more about the advantages of this alleged "jewel in the desert" he had no intention of buying at all. He didn't even want to imagine what living on Tatooine for any extended period of time would be like. There was no way he would buy a house on this wretched planet when he didn't intend to spend a single moment longer on Tatooine than was strictly necessary.

Quickly, he left the office and left Ben to resume the comm call he had been having before the Padawan had entered. Obviously, the girls were not here, so, as unlikely as it seemed, maybe there was someone else called Ben around here, after all.

After a solid two and a half hours of looking for the girls in just under a dozen different shops all owned by some Ben or other, Obi-Wan could only assume that on Tatooine about every second shop owner's name was Ben. And apparently it didn't stop there. The customary way of greeting men around here seemed to be "Oi, Ben!" because chances were that the person you were addressing was actually called Ben.

If anyone wanted to disappear around here, he would just have to take on the name Ben, and you would never be found in a hundred years – as Obi-Wan was currently experiencing first-hand.

So far, he had met Ben the Baker, Ben the Lawyer, Ben the Dressmaker and Ben the Hairstylist. The Padawan had also gotten directions to Ben the Podracer, Ben the Moisture Farmer and Ben the Crazy Old Hermit who lived out in the Jundland Wastes as well as quite a few more of the sort, but since he was looking for a place that appealed enough to the handmaidens so that they had so far spent some hours there, he decided not to make further inquiries with these.

At 'Ben's Garage' he had picked up fuel for the girl's speeder. In their call to Panaka, they had complained that they had run out of fuel after just a few miles and so were stuck in Mos Espa. Obviously, they had not thought to re-fuel yet, because if they had, they wouldn't still be here.

Finally, Obi-Wan found the girls in 'Ben's All Day and Night Fashion Shop for All Occasions', happily spending a small fortune on clothes, shoes and glittery purses which were so small that not even the necessities a girl usually carried would fit in there, rendering them completely useless (at least in Obi-Wan's eyes). The beaming shop owner was reluctant to let them leave because business hadn't been as good in years.

With three content handmaidens in his wake and carrying the huge pile of recently purchased clothes, Obi-Wan got back to the speeder.

Although it was still early morning, a lot had already happened for one day. Yawning widely from the short night they had had, the handmaidens quickly hopped into the speeder and after a few minutes filled with increasingly tired giggles, they were quickly becoming drowsy and fell asleep.

Glad that he wouldn't have to deal with girls still hyper from the excitements of shopping, Obi-Wan got them back safely to the ship. He was almost surprised that the return trip passed without further trouble.

After dumping the mound of clothes in the common room for the handmaidens to sort out, he excused himself as quickly as politeness allowed and tried to get back a bit of the rest he had missed out on.

oOo

Edited on 3rd January, 2011


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

The words that were submissions to the challenge I set myself are highlighted in **bold letters**.

Disclaimer: I can't think of a humorous disclaimer right now, so you'll have to do with the normal one. I don't own this stuff.

oOo

The next morning, Qui-Gon woke up to the delicious smell of homemade pancakes. Shmi was already in the kitchen, preparing breakfast, and just a few minutes later, a hungry Jedi Master joined her.

"Mmmh, that smells nice," he said, hungrily eyeing the growing pile of pancakes Anakin's mother was preparing. There were also some muffins and toast.

Qui-Gon used the Force to steal one of the still hot muffins. Munching contentedly, he asked: "Did you sleep well? I hope my apprentice didn't wake you. What was Obi-Wan thinking, calling me in the middle of the night? Oh, by the way, has he returned that podracer yet?"

Shmi shrugged. She had had a rather less than refreshing night, but that was by no means due to comm. calls in the middle of the night. Rather, Qui-Gon's incessant and thunderous snoring had kept her awake most of the night, along with half the neighbourhood, she imagined.

"It would have been a miracle if your apprentice had managed to move that thing in the first place. I've never heard of Anakin's podracer moving in any way, that is if you don't count falling apart as a movement. But just take a look in the back yard; it should be there under some dusty covers."

With that, she shooed Qui-Gon out before he could eat any more of her carefully prepared breakfast before it was actually served.

oOo

About two hours later, after everyone had had a hearty breakfast, Qui-Gon went out to check whether Obi-Wan had already returned the podracer. He couldn't find anything except for a huge pile of junk in one corner, so he immediately called his apprentice (who still sounded distinctly sleepy) to lecture him on punctuality and dependability, and demanded that Obi-Wan bring back the racer as soon as possible and immediately cease this childish **footle**.

Before his Padawan could launch his excuse (he had never taken the podracer, yeah, right) Qui-Gon hung up on him, because Padmé, Jar-Jar and R2-D2 were approaching. Together, they wanted to follow Anakin, who had left shortly after breakfast to talk to Watto, and try to convince the Toydarian of their plan.

Qui-Gon took off at a quick pace. He was still a bit irritated with Obi-Wan, who was usually so reliable, and now he blundered twice in one night. That was not acceptable. Qui-Gon decided he would have to have a serious talk with his apprentice once he was back.

His companions had a hard time keeping up with the Jedi's long, determined stride. Padmé especially looked less than happy.

"Are you sure about this? Trusting our fate to a boy we hardly know?" she queried, sounding less than convinced of the soundness of Qui-Gon's plan. Yesterday night, it had seemed like a good idea to let Anakin take part in the race, after all, what did they have to lose? But now that she was sober again, she wasn't as sure any more.

Qui-Gon lifted one eyebrow. "Oh, look who is talking. The girl who's reluctant to trust our fate to a boy we hardly know but who will marry said boy she hardly knows without so much as a second thought or a marriage contract."

Padmé looked at him doubtfully. There was only one boy she hardly knew and still would marry gladly, but he wasn't here at the moment. And besides, at twenty-five, she doubted he could still be called a boy.

Dispelling these distracting thoughts with a determined shake of her head, she fixed the imposing Jedi Master with a disapproving glare.

"The Queen will not approve," she threatened. Padmé thought she was becoming rather good at the politician's game of making subtle hints with otherwise seemingly everyday statements.

Too bad that Qui-Gon was never one to take a subtle hint.

"The Queen doesn't need to know," he answered, the glint in his eyes and the slight grin on his face entirely lacking respect for a certain monarch. It seemed he was hugely amused by his small conspiracy.

Padmé opened her mouth and snapped: "How can I not know? You just _told_ me what you intend to do. I sure hope you don't expect that I erase my memory, not that I know how that is done, anyway. But you must realize that…" Padmé caught the bewildered glance Qui-Gon threw her. "Or maybe you _don't_ realize. I'm pretty sure that Padawan of yours figured it out ages ago. I assumed he would have pointed it out to you; he seems quite fond of stating the obvious. But I should stop talking about this; it's probably for the best that you don't know. Forget what I just said. I'm not the Queen, really not. Still, the Queen… um, I mean, I don't approve."

Padmé sat down in front of the shop, pouting and annoyed that she had almost revealed her real identity to Qui-Gon. To her vexation she realized that she couldn't order the Jedi around when she was disguised as the handmaiden persona, but she was reluctant to disclose her real identity to the sometimes rather careless Jedi.

Qui-Gon, though, was already halfway inside the shop, and Watto came flapping towards him.

"The boy tells me you want to sponsor him in the race," Watto said eagerly. If the tall human was dumb enough to bet all his money on Anakin, well, Watto wouldn't stop him, especially if he could make a profit from it. He desperately needed money to pay his rent.

But Watto doubted that Qui-Gon had much money. "How can you do this?" he asked. "Not on Republic credits, I think," the Toydarian gloated.

Qui-Gon already had another use in mind for his 20,000 credits, so he presented his comm link and showed him a bluish hologram of the Nubian cruiser. "My ship will be the entry fee. Look, it's small and transparent and blue, and it revolves."

Watto was impressed. "Not bad. Not bad, huh? Nubian, huh?" he said, stroking the bristly stubble on his chin in contemplation. A small, virtual spaceship would surely fetch a nice price.

"It's in good order, except for the parts I need. It needs a new virtual hyperdrive. And you can't have the comm. link, it's a special one for Jedi. Oops, I shouldn't have told you that. Forget what I just said," Qui-Gon added, performing his customary mind trick, not that it had the desired effect on Watto.

But the Toydarian's mind was occupied with other things.

"What would the boy ride? He smashed up my pod in the last race when throwing a tantrum because he didn't win. It would take some long time to fix it."

"It wasn't my fault. Really!" Anakin argued in his best whiny voice. "Sebulba flashed me with his vents, and that really winds me up. He does it deliberately to provoke me. And since there were no Sand People around to take my fury out on, I kind of took it out on the pod. But I actually saved the pod… mostly. I only smashed it with a crowbar. Not with a lightsaber, so it's just injured and not dead, not like the Tusken Raiders who will kill my mom. And Sebulba should know better than to annoy me. I'm so gonna blow up his planet when I have my Bubble of Doom. You think that's a good name for a dangerous space station? Or would you prefer Lethal Weapon Sphere? No matter, I'll just ask Sidious, I'm sure he has a few nice ominous-sounding suggestions. So, back to the pod: It really wasn't my fault, and I didn't smash it as badly as I could have" Anakin prattled.

"That you did. Heh heh heh," Watto chuckled, amused at the boy's delusions of grandeur. Anakin truly was one of a kind, always good for a laugh. "The boy's good. No doubts there, huh? Maybe a bit insane, as well, but still one of the funniest people on Tatooine. Except maybe for that young Jedi guy, but he's funny in an involuntary kind of way. Anakin really does the darndest things, and he says all that funny stuff about what he'll do when he's grown up and gone to the Dark Side."

Qui-Gon gave Watto an insincere smile. Clearly, this Toydarian was a few steps short on reality.

"I have acquired a pod in a game of chance. The fastest ever built," Qui-Gon lied, with a completely straight face and a meaningful sideways glance at Anakin.

"I hope you didn't kill anyone I know for it, huh?" Watto joked. He felt slightly unsettled when Qui-Gon only gave him a one-sided grin that clearly said: "There's always a bigger fish."

Watto judged it cautious to return to the matter at hand.

"So, you supply the pod and the entry fee, and I supply the boy. We split the winnings 50-50, I think, huh?"

But Qui-Gon didn't agree. "If it's going to be 50-50, I suggest you front the cash for the entry, especially seeing as I don't have any cash right now except for the Republic credits. If we win, you keep all the winnings, minus the cost of the parts I need. And if we lose, you keep my ship. Well, not the actual ship, since I still need that one and it doesn't even really belong to me, but you get to keep the stylish blue hologram of the ship. Either way, I'll cheat you… I mean, you win."

After a tense moment, Watto agreed. "Deal!" he shouted, and slapped his palm on Qui-Gon's to seal the agreement.

Qui-Gon and Anakin smiled at each other. They had successfully fooled Watto into taking part in their foolhardy plan.

With another smile and his habitual lack of farewell, Qui-Gon left the junk shop.

"_Your friend is a foolish one, methinks,_" Watto stated once the Jedi had left.

Anakin's answer was a sullen stare and a spiteful crossing of his arms, followed by a long and detailed lecture about the awesomeness of Qui-Gon Jinn and all things Jedi.

oOo

Obi-Wan was once again trying to fix the hyperdrive, a futile exercise of his mechanical skills since that thing was broken beyond repair. Still, sitting around doing nothing didn't help their situation, either, Obi-Wan was at least occupied and, for the moment, comfortably free of handmaidens.

He would have gone outside if it weren't for the dozen or so animals that had chosen to amble around their ship. Granted, they looked innocent enough, and their looks were those of docile herbivores. But that was the problem, because if they were, in fact, herbivores, they would starve out here in the desert if they ate anything short of sand, which was the only thing abundant enough to maintain the bulk of these beasts outside.

Obi-Wan was reluctant to test this hypothesis, so he stayed inside as a precaution. Not that he couldn't handle these beasts, but if he went outside, the handmaidens would soon follow him, and he didn't want to find out if these animals found them as tasty as the handmaidens did him.

So, Qui-Gon calling on his comm. link was a welcome distraction from his pointless attempts at repair.

"Good morning, Master."

"Good morning, Padawan. How are things back at the ship? Oh, never mind. I have good news. With a little luck, we'll have the parts we need by tomorrow." Qui-Gon thought he heard a relieved sigh at that point. "You see, we found this Chosen One, he's a really bright and nice boy. I think you'd like him. He wants to help us, so he'll take part in that really dangerous race tomorrow. If he wins, we get the parts we need. If we lose (which I don't think we will)… uhm… we kind of lose the ship. But that's all right. We won't lose, I'm pretty sure of that."

"What if this plan fails, Master? We could be stuck here a very long time." Obi-Wan was concerned about the lack of caution Qui-Gon currently displayed in handling this difficult situation, and the thought of spending a very long time on Tatooine didn't exactly sit comfortably with him, and not only because of the cramped quarters that teemed with handmaidens.

"Well, it's too dangerous to call for help, and besides, we don't want the Council to think we're sissies, do we? And anyway, a ship without a power supply isn't going to get us anywhere. And… there's something about this boy."

Before Obi-Wan could voice any more of his concerns, Qui-Gon had hung up again.

"Do I really ask too much if I want a proper goodbye now and then?" Obi-Wan mumbled dejectedly.

The two pilots who sat at a table in the corner fixing random stuff gave him sympathetic smiles.

oOo

"And… there's something about this boy," Qui-Gon finished, deep in thought.

Smiling up at the tall Jedi, Shmi joined him on the balcony. They watched Anakin down in the backyard, doing some last-minute work on his pile of junk… oh, sorry, his podracer.

"You should be very proud of your son. He gives without any thought. Without any thought of reward, I mean. Although he does do a lot of things without any thought at all," Qui-Gon remarked.

"He knows nothing of greed," Shmi agreed. "And I have to admit that he knows just as little of common sense or reason. He has-"

"He has special powers" Qui-Gon finished the sentence for her.

Shmi looked up at him. "That's not exactly what I was about to say. I wanted to point out that he has his own logic, which can be very weird and twisted at times. Like one moment, he would kill all the Jedi just to save his wife from dying, and the next he will choke her himself. Still, yes, he does have special powers."

"He can see things before they happen. That's why he appears to have such quick reflexes. It's a Jedi trait" Qui-Gon elaborated.

Shmi nodded. "He does know things before they happen. For example, he usually knows his own intentions in advance, and that's a pretty tricky thing to figure out. I mean, we're talking about Anakin here, and it's kind of difficult to comprehend the way his brain works." Anakin's mother sighed. "He deserves better than a slave's life. I've always had ambitions for him; I wanted him to become the ruler of the Galactic Empire, or at least the second in command. But I guess I could live with him becoming a Jedi. You do offer your members a decent dental plan, do you?"

"Had he been born in the Republic, we would have identified him early." Qui-Gon considered Anakin a moment, before he explained: "The Force is unusually strong with him, that much is clear." On a sudden impulse, he asked: "Who was his father?"

Shmi lowered her eyes for a second. After a moment's hesitation, she firmly stated: "There was no father. Besides, once doesn't count. I carried him, I gave birth, I raised him. I can't explain what happened. My knowledge in biology has always been rather limited. We were quite drunk that night, and then we started kissing and suddenly there was that bedroom and… well, much the same as what happened last night…"

Qui-Gon silenced her with a gesture. There was no need to talk about that right now. He only hoped that Obi-Wan would never find out about that, or he would never hear the end of it.

Shmi looked up at him hopefully. "Can you help him?" she almost pleaded.

"I don't know. I didn't actually come to free slaves," Qui-Gon answered sadly. "But I think I can make an exception here, we're talking about a potential Chosen One, after all. And let's not forget that there's always a bigger fish."

Shmi was not exactly sure what all of this had to do with fish, nor what a fish exactly looked like, but Qui-Gon's answer sounded promising.

oOo

Down in the backyard, Anakin was joined by some other children who looked in turn admiringly or condescendingly at his so-called podracer.

"Wow, a real astro-droid!" one small boy exclaimed. "How did you get so lucky?"

R2 whistled happily at the children.

"That isn't the half of it," Anakin bragged. "Here, see that girl over there? She's a real catch, and she's all mine. I'm gonna marry her when I'm grown-up and handsome. And see that tall man who is standing next to my mother? He's my newest daddy, since last night. And he'll free me and take me away, and I will become one of these badass Jedi. And then, later, I will be the ruler of the entire Galaxy, or at least the second in command. And…" Anakin paused for effect "I'm in the Boonta race tomorrow," he finished smugly.

"What?" his little friend gasped. "With this?" he asked incredulously. "But… that's impossible. I mean, look at that thing. It's built out of junk you stole from Watto's shop!"

The little green Greedo-alien added in his best fake mocking voice: "You're such a joker, Ani." For good measure, the alien threw in his best fake mocking laugh.

Two girls who were hanging around with the other kids sneered.

"You've been working on that for years."

"It's never gonna run!"

"Come on, let's go and play ball because I can't think of anything more futuristic to do right now. Keep racing, Ani. You're gonna be bug squash," another boy jeered.

"You can only become bug squash if you were a bug in the first place!" Anakin shouted after them.

"Don't worry, Anakin," Padmé tried to cheer him up. "I'm not exactly an expert, but I think your racer is **super-califragilistic-expialidotious**."

"Super…what?" Anakin asked, though a smile brightened his face. Whatever it was Padmé had said, it had started with super!

"**Super-califragilistic-expialidotious**." Padmé elaborated. "I used to have a nanny who always said that. She wasn't my nanny for long, though. My parents fired her because she was kind of creepy. She would burst into song every other minute, and she associated with people who lived on the ceiling because they laughed so much. She made me give my pocket money to an old woman who sold food for birds. After we threw her out, she flew away with her umbrella, though I suspect that it was really a highly sophisticated spaceship. She was very fond of **scuttlebutt**, knew everything that was worth knowing about almost everyone in town."

Padmé shrugged. "The knowledge I gleaned from her gossip helped me blackmail my way into politics, so I guess it was useful, after all."

Jar Jar had offered his help with the racer, so he had grabbed a wrench and tried to figure out what to do with it.

"Keep away from those energy binders. If your hand gets caught in the beam, it's gonna go numb for hours, even though it looks like it would electrocute you instantly," Anakin warned the Gungan. It was not really any power coupling, though. Anakin had used two of these special effects lamps that produced lightning, but were completely harmless.

"Okay!" Jar Jar agreed. Just two seconds later, he had already managed to get his tongue into the power coupling. Unfortunately, it didn't kill him instantly, but at least it shut him up effectively, if you were willing to overhear his pathetic attempts at speech that were even more garbled than was usual even for him.

On top of that, he even managed to get his hand stuck in one of the dustbins that served as engines.

"You know, I find that Jar Jar creature to be a little odd," C-3PO remarked.

R2-D2 heartily agreed, but 3PO seemed reluctant to act on the astromech's suggestion of assassinating the annoying creature.

"You don't even know if this thing's gonna run," Kitster, Anakin's friend, insisted.

Anakin assured him: "It will!"

At that moment, Qui-Gon joined them in the backyard. "I think it's time we found out," he said, handing Anakin new batteries for the game pad that took the place of the steering device. "Here, use this power charge."

"Yes, sir!" Anakin shouted enthusiastically.

"Come on, Kitster. Let's move away." Qui-Gon and the boy stopped at a safe distance of the pod.

Jar Jar's hand, though, was still stuck in one of the two dustbins.

Had it been a real podracer, Jar Jar would have been just seconds away from being shredded into tiny pieces. That was not the case, though, but Padmé helped him free his hand, anyway. After all, if Jar Jar was convinced that this was the case, he might lose his hand because of the placebo effect.

R2-D2 and C-3PO stood at the wall, watching the stupid Gungan once again. To their artificial intelligence, it seemed completely incomprehensible how the Gungans could survive under natural selection if all of them were as inapt as Jar Jar.

R2 beeped a few choice words that would make anyone familiar with binary beeping blush furiously.

"You're quite right," 3PO agreed, though as a protocol droid he was a bit more considerate in his choice of words. "He's very odd indeed."

Seconds after Jar Jar had been freed with Padmé's help, Anakin pressed a few buttons on his game pad. The device gave a few beeps and vibrated in Anakin's hands.

"It's working! It's working!" Anakin shouted excitedly. He pressed a few more buttons and elicited a few more beeps.

Qui-Gon, Padmé and Shmi all looked at him with bright smiles on their faces, glad that their seemingly only chance of acquiring the spare parts was functioning so far.

oOo

Beepbeepbeepbeep beepbeepbeepbeep

Maul slowly opened first one eye, then the other. For a few moments, the world swam before his eyes. His memory of the last night was hazy at best. He could vaguely remember first picking up some hitchhiker and then entering a small and seedy cantina. After that, everything was a big, dark blur, which apparently had been exchanged for a big, light blur while he was sleeping.

Maul blinked a few times and sat up. Immediately, his hand went up to his head and he groaned miserably. This must be the most sithly hangover he had had so far. He probably shouldn't have drunk all these beers yesterday. His mouth tasted like an unwashed armpit that had been used as an ashtray.

The insistent chirping of his comm. link resumed. Maul rubbed his face once, groaned loudly as he got up and stumbled to the comm. station. How he had gotten back to his ship was a mystery to him.

Even the soft noise of his favourite ring tone sounded to his hung-over head like the **tintinnabulation** of at least a thousand bells tolling the Imperial March.

Lord Sidious was calling to ask whether he had found the Queen and killed the Jedi already.

Maul flinched and once again grabbed his throbbing head. Sidious' voice sounded even raspier than was usual and was grating on Darth Maul's nerves.

"My apprentice, did you spend the night drinking again? Your eyes are all red and yellow. Oh wait, that's how they're supposed to be. Before you go after the Jedi in that condition and get yourself killed by some pathetic apprentice, sleep it off. In the meantime, I will make arrangements to topple Valorum and make sure that someone much better suited for that post gets elected Chancellor."

Darth Maul didn't need to be told twice. He grunted a few unenthusiastic "yes, Master"s before his Master said goodbye and hung up. Then, he stumbled back to bed and was asleep instantly.

He was never even aware how surprised and just a tiny bit jealous a certain Jedi Padawan would have been had he known that even Sith Lords ended their comm. calls with a polite goodbye.

oOo

Edited on 17th January, 2011


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

The words that were submissions to the challenge I set myself are highlighted in **bold letters**.

Disclaimer: If you believe, everything is possible. At least, that's what Disney movies always like to tell us.

oOo

Shmi's dinner tasted delicious, especially after a whole day of tinkering with Anakin's pod. Shmi had prepared **Blugbahgova**, one of the local specialities. Its main ingredient was whatever leftovers there were from the last few days. All these leftovers were mashed together into some kind of stew, so they didn't even have to endure Jar Jar's disgusting way of eating with his tongue, though that was unfortunately replaced by copious amounts of slurping.

When no one was looking, Qui-Gon stabbed Anakin's arm with his fork. There was something he needed to find out. Luckily for him, no one seemed to notice, nor did anyone particularly care.

oOo

After dinner, Shmi declared: "So, after this nice meal, who wants to help me wash the dishes?"

Before she had even finished the question, she suddenly found herself alone in the dining room. Apparently, no one felt inclined to help her with the dishes.

Anakin and Qui-Gon fled to the balcony where they sat looking up at the stars.

"Wow, look at that! My arm's bleeding. When did that happen?" Anakin was baffled.

"Uh, erm… I have no idea," Qui-Gon answered. He grabbed Anakin's arm. "Stay still, Ani. Let me clean this cut I didn't cause. It's not like I stabbed you with my fork or anything."

Anakin frowned for a moment. Then, with complete conviction, he declared: "Yeah, it was probably Obi-Wan's fault, as usual."

While Qui-Gon swabbed the scratch on Anakin's arm, never questioning the boy's last remark, Anakin's eyes were firmly fixed on the sky.

"There's so many. Do they all have a system of planets?" he asked.

"Who, Obi-Wan? No, there's only one of him, which is quite enough, if you ask me. And he doesn't own a single system of planets. Wherever did you get that idea?"

"Huh?" Anakin frowned. He didn't know a star called OB-1, and he had learned all the names of all the three planets that were talked about at the cantina: Iego (the one where the angels came from), Coruscant (which somehow was important, though Anakin didn't actually know why) and, naturally, Tatooine. "No, I was talking about _them_." Anakin nodded up at the stars.

"Oh. Yeah. Sure. Most of them do," Qui-Gon explained. "Except for this one, and this one. Oh, and this one, too. And this one and this…" he started pointing out random stars, but only 34% of them really didn't have their own star system. Navigation had never been his strongest suit.

Anakin was impressed. "Has anyone been to them all?" he asked.

Qui-Gon smiled, also looking up. "Hmmm. Not likely. If you want to believe in maths and physics and such things, you would probably like to know that with the number of worlds in just this Galaxy, it would take about 3,695,472 years to do that, and that's if you only spend 3.2 seconds on each planet, which might be good if the planet is rather uninhabitable, but what if the planet is really **idyllic** and you would like to stay much longer? And these 3.2 seconds are only possible if you don't include the time you would need to refuel or for check-ups and repairs in your calculations. At least, that's probably what my Padawan would tell you, but he's **metacognating**, if you ask me. That means I believe he thinks too much, though I can't quite remember if that's the right term. I myself am rather disinclined to believe in such vague things as science. If you just trust in the Living Force, you cannot possibly be wrong. Well, maybe you'll fail most of your exams because I've never heard of the Living Force solving equations, but then again, I won't be the one who will have to put up with when you'll fail all these tests because you didn't study properly."

Evidently, Anakin didn't much appreciate science, either, and was not especially dismayed at Qui-Gon's prediction of numerous failed exams. "I wanna be the first one to see them all." He sighed.

"Ani, bedtime!" Shmi shouted from inside the house. The dishes hadn't taken that long, after all.

Just then, Qui-Gon finished his ministrations to Anakin's arm. "There we are. Good as new."

"Ani, I'm not gonna tell you again!" Anakin's mother called once more.

"What are you doing?" Anakin asked, suspiciously eyeing Qui-Gon's fumbling with his comm. link.

"Checking your blood for infections," Qui-Gon lied smoothly, without so much as a moment's hesitation. Then, he sent Anakin off to bed. "Go on! You have a big day tomorrow, though it will only have 30 standard hours and 23 standard minutes, just like any other day on Tatooine does. Sleep well, Ani."

As soon as Anakin had vanished inside the house, Qui-Gon spoke into his comm. link.

"Obi-Wan?"

Not even half a second later, the apprentice answered, as though he had been waiting right next to the comm. station. In fact, Obi-Wan had once again sought shelter from the increasingly pushy flirting of the handmaidens and had spent the evening reading whatever interesting things he found on the holonet. He hadn't felt like another walk through the **idyllic** landscape of Tatooine, so the cockpit was the room of his choice.

So he sat right next to the ships comm. station when his Master called and instantly picked the comm. up when it rang.

"Yes, Master?"

"I need an analysis of this blood sample I'm sending you," Qui-Gon demanded, once again omitting the greeting.

_Good evening to you, too! It's nice to hear from you, Master. _Talking with Qui-Gon on the phone was never pleasant.

"But Master, you only have an ordinary comm. link, the only thing you can send with that is a transmission, certainly nothing solid, and it's not a miniature medical station to analyze blood samples."

But Qui-Gon wasn't listening any more. Instead, he was vigorously pressing various buttons on his comm. link to "transfer" the blood sample to Obi-Wan, which made the comm. on Obi-Wan's end of the connection beep wildly.

When the beeping finally subsided, Obi-Wan asked his Master to wait a minute so he could turn off the computer. As soon as he had turned away from it, lots of obtrusive advertisements had started flashing on the screen.

"I need a midi-chlorian count," Qui-Gon stated.

_Oh no, not that again!_ Obi-Wan inwardly groaned. His Master had never been known for his apposite use of scientific terms. Sometimes he liked to use pseudo-scientific words that sounded very important but didn't have an actual meaning, like "**metacognating**".

Midi-chlorians, though, actually existed, but their correct name was mitochondria.

To Obi-Wan's knowledge, mitochondria were, in short, a part of every eukaryotic cell and had a vital part in aerobic metabolism. That much was commonly known.

Qui-Gon, though, didn't want to hear any of that. He persistently called them midi-chlorians and insisted that communication with the Force was only possible through them. Where he had gotten that weird conviction, Obi-Wan had no clue. For all the faith Qui-Gon put into the Force, his explanation for that mysterious entity every Jedi followed wherever it lead had always seemed a bit profane to Obi-Wan. Why his Master would stubbornly cling to that image when he could just as well have chosen any amount of more mysterious and profound explanations also seemed almost out of character for someone as opposed to science as Qui-Gon usually was.

Obi-Wan had tried to explain the purpose of mitochondria on numerous occasions and had even shown him some multicoloured pictures of cells to get his point across. Obviously, he hadn't had all that much success with his try at biological education for his Master.

The Padawan didn't feel up to yet another discussion with Qui-Gon about that (or any other) topic, so he decided to humour his Master with an answer.

He switched the computer back on and opened the holonet. Wookiepedia told him that one average human cell contained between 18,000 and 22,000 mitochondria.

_But what will I do if he wants to see the readout?_ Obi-Wan asked himself. Since Obi-Wan hadn't really analyzed any blood samples, naturally there wasn't one. So he would just have to make up a result that would explain that lack of readouts.

"The reading is off the chart," he said. "Over 20,000!"

Belatedly spotting the fault in his own logic, he hurriedly added: "Even Master Yoda doesn't have a midi-chlorian count that high." Qui-Gon had naturally invented a scale that included Master Yoda's count.

"No Jedi has," Qui-Gon quietly stated.

"What does that mean?" Obi-Wan asked, a bit puzzled with his Master's answer. Had Qui-Gon just awarded the poor guy he had gotten the blood sample from (probably by means of a fork, Obi-Wan speculated) an extraordinarily high midi-chlorian count and therefore by his logic an extraordinary connection with the Force?

Instead of the enthusiastic lecture about some Chosen One or other with oh so much potential that Obi-Wan had secretly expected, he only got a dubious "I'm not sure" as an answer.

After that, the comm. link was once again silent. This time, though, Obi-Wan had not even expected a goodbye, since that was really too much to ask of a conversation that hadn't even started with a greeting.

What took him aback, though, was that Qui-Gon, who had made up all that stuff about midi-chlorians in the first place, was not sure of what his own fantasy had come up with. If his Master didn't understand his own little world any more, then how in all the galaxies should anyone else be able to?

Not exactly comforted, Obi-Wan returned to his computer game, but he soon switched it off again. What Qui-Gon had told him had distracted him, and his mind was on other things than the stupid game.

oOo

The next morning, it was finally the day of the podrace. All kinds of creatures had come to Mos Espa to watch the race. The participants were already getting ready. Strange beasts pulled even stranger contraptions on the flat space in front of huge stands, where the first spectators were already fighting for the best seats. Opposite the stands, there was a huge screen where the race was to be shown.

Off to the side, in the shade of a hangar, Watto was once again talking to Qui-Gon Jinn.

"I wanna see your spaceship the moment the race is over. The way the transparent image revolved was incredibly beautiful, and its pale bluish shade will forever be engraved into my memory. Let me see it again!"

"Patience, my blue friend," Qui-Gon chuckled. "You'll have your winnings before the suns set. And we'll be far away from here, laughing at your stupidity. Pfff, just look at you. You are ugly, you talk with a strange accent and you are generally an unpleasant… um, whatever you are. You can't win! We are the good guys! We always win, unless a tragedy is needed and one of us has to die."

"You don't win, not if your ship belongs to me, I think, huh? I sure know I couldn't bear to lose that wonderful blue image of a ship that will soon be in my possession. I warn you, no funny business," Watto half joked, half threatened.

Qui-Gon was not amused. "You don't think Anakin can win?" he asked.

"Don't get me wrongo," Watto tried to calm him. "I have great faith in the boy. He's a credit to your race. But if I may remind you of our first meeting, I think I've made very clear what I think of credits, so in my opinion, Sebulba there is going to win, I think."

He pointed to where the Dug was sitting, getting a manicure or rather pedicure (one could never be really sure with him) from two blue-skinned Twi'leks in tight yellow clothes whose colour clashed terribly with the shade of their skin.

Jar Jar still remembered his last encounter with Sebulba. His eyes widened in horror. "Oh no!" he screamed, so the audience didn't forget just how annoying a character he was.

"Why do you think that?" Qui-Gon asked. "You sound just like my apprentice, only he doesn't have such a funny accent. Then again, Obi-Wan would never bet on anyone, but only say something along the lines of podracing being very dangerous, or that he doesn't mind flying, but what Anakin is doing is suicide."

With an air that clearly stated that Qui-Gon obviously had no inkling of podraces (which in truth he hadn't) Watto informed them: "He always wins! I'm betting heavily on Sebulba," he said, as if the winnings were already in his pocket.

With Obi-Wan not there to keep Qui-Gon's gambling compulsion in check, the Jedi Master folded his arms across his chest, promptly saying: "I'll take that bet."

"What?" Watto was taken aback by this guy's willingness to take risks. With the way he was gambling though he practically owned nothing, he would own less than nothing in no time.

"I'll wager my new racing pod against, say, the boy and his mother."

There he went again, risking things that didn't belong to him. If he lost, which was by no means an impossibility, he would not only lose the Queen's ship, but also Anakin's podracer. Not that it was worth all that much, but still, it certainly was not his to use as a stake.

"No pod is worth two slaves, not by a long shot," Watto protested. Especially not what counted as a pod on Tatooine.

"The boy, then," Qui-Gon calmly proposed.

Watto seemed reluctant, but it was obvious that Qui-Gon was not the only one present who suffered from an addiction to gambling.

"We'll let fate decide, huh? Fate being, in that case, a chance cube (which is essentially a die just with colours instead of numbers because I couldn't tell one number from another if they danced on my nose and bit me) I just happen to carry in my pocket all the time. Of course it's not a fair die, but then again, I'm not exactly renowned for my fairness, am I? So, blue, it's the boy. Red, his mother," he offered, a malicious gleam in his eyes.

Watto threw the die… erm, sorry, "chance cube". Qui-Gon secretly smiled. Maybe his favourite way of convincing people didn't work on Toydarians, but it certainly worked on something as weak-minded as a cubic piece of plastic. Obi-Wan would have frowned at his Master's cheating, and with the Force at that, but Qui-Gon didn't have such scruples. Besides, he hadn't Force-suggested anything in the last five to eighteen hours and felt that a little practice to stay in shape was in order.

Watto was not pleased with the results. The chance cube showed blue, which in itself was an impossibility (Watto had seen to that), but he really didn't want to let Anakin go. He didn't know where that reluctance came from, but somehow he had a very bad feeling about Anakin going with that man. And not your average bad feeling, at that, but rather something of the scale that predicted the destruction of the Republic and the Jedi order (not that he cared very much about any of that, but still).

"You won this small toss, outlander, but you won't win the race," Watto shouted angrily. "So it makes little difference!"

He turned his back and flapped off.

Just as the blue shop owner was leaving, Padmé and Anakin, Shmi and Kitster arrived at the hangar. They were riding eopies, creatures that looked like an unfavourable crossbreed between hairless camels and pink elephants.

"_Better stop your friend's betting, or I'll end up owning him, too,_" Watto said when he flew past them. He gave a malicious chuckle before he left for the stands.

"What did he mean by that?" Anakin inquired. What were the stakes Qui-Gon had raised? The boy hoped that the Jedi only wagered with things he owned, and not Anakin's precious podracer.

"I'll tell you later," Qui-Gon brushed the question aside.

He went straight to the eopie that carried Kitster and Shmi. Strange that she wasn't riding with her son, but with that other small boy.

Qui-Gon wished her a good morning and lifted her off her mount. Shmi had told her son just this morning that maybe she had found a new daddy for him, and to Anakin it seemed like she had not been entirely misguided in that aspect.

Next to the podracer, R2 and C-3PO were talking. Or rather, 3PO was doing the talking while R2 answered with his characteristic beeps and whistles.

"Oh, my. Space travel sounds rather perilous," C-3PO whined.

"_Don't be such a sissy. Flying is the safest way of travelling, nowadays. Statistics show that podraces, for example, are much more dangerous than flying through space is,_" Artoo beeped.

"Still, I can assure you, they will never get me onto one of these dreadful starships," 3PO was seemingly the only one who was not able to predict the future correctly, be it in a sarcastic or serious manner.

Anakin's little friend Kitster was beside himself with excitement. "This is sooo wizard, Ani! I'm sure you'll do it this time."

"Do what?" Padmé asked.

The answer Kitster gave her was more than unsettling. "Finish the race, of course."

This only further increased the doubts she had about Qui-Gon's mad plan. "You've never won a race?" she asked, incredulous.

"Well, not exactly," Anakin grudgingly admitted.

"Not even finished?"

Anakin was furious with his friend for spilling the beans. Padmé didn't seem very impressed with his racing abilities so far, and he had really wanted to impress her. He wanted her admiration, which now seemed completely out of reach.

Instead of throwing the tantrum he felt like throwing, he pulled himself together for Padmé's sake (what would she think of him, after all) and said with as much optimism as he could summon, but with a slightly pained expression on his face: "Kitster's right. I will this time."

"Of course you will," Qui-Gon assured both Anakin and Padmé, whom he threw a reproachful look for her doubtful attitude.

oOo

When all the podracers had been pulled out on the track, the preparations were almost finished.

The commentator, an alien with not just one but two heads, was already eagerly doing his job. Everyone who has read "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy" would immediately identify him as Zaphod Beeblebrox, the only known person with more than one head (except maybe for Zaphod's grandfather).

"That's absolutely right!" the right head agreed with whatever the left one had just said. "And a big turnout here from all corners of the outer rim territories. I see the contestants are making their way out onto the starting grid. I see Ben Quadinaros from the Tund System…" - a green alien who somehow had a kite-like look about him waved at the cheering crowd of spectators. "Two-time winner Boles Roor." A few other contestants were announced.

After some gibberish (probably Huttese) from the other head, both shouted "Sebulba!" enthusiastically. The Dug waved for his fans and threw them kisses, looking more than a bit silly. The kiss-throwing just completely destroyed his image of a badass villain. Maybe he should fire his public relations agent.

The reporter continued: "And in the front row, nearside pole position, Mawhonic!" The three-eyed racer gave a bow. In the stands, his best friend Doctor Zeudberg (the crustacean guy from Futurama) jumped to his feet, shouting and cheering. "A hearty hello to Clegg Holfast and his Voltec KT9 Wasp!" With his huge eyes and the touch of make-up on his face, Clegg looked a bit effeminate.

"And back again, it's the mighty Dud Bolt with that incredible racing machine, the Vulptereen 327. And hoping for a big win today, Ody Mandrell, with his record-setting pit droid team. And a late entry, young Anakin Skywalker, a local boy." Obediently, Anakin also waved at the crowd.

"I see the flags are moving out onto the track," the commentator stated.

C-3PO had been chosen to carry the flag for Anakin. The boy had designed it himself, when he was about three. It showed blue doodling on a white background, which Anakin claimed represented his podracer.

Jar Jar was once again fiddling with the loose wires in the rubbish bins that were supposed to be the engines of Anakin's pod. One of the eopies farted and then laughed at Jar Jar, because it felt it was the more intelligent one of them. The Gungan didn't get the joke and mumbled some insults at the beast.

Meanwhile, Shmi was cautioning her son. "Be safe," she said, straightening his tunic.

"I will, mom. I promise. I'll try not to lose more than ten lifes at the most."

When Sebulba walked past Anakin's pod, he broke off one important-looking but actually completely useless piece of machinery. "Oops," he said, laughing malevolently.

"_You won't walk away from this one, you slave scum,_" he threatened Anakin. "_I will make sure that you lose all your lives today._"

"_Don't count on it, slime ball,_" Anakin countered.

"_You're bantha fodder,_" Sebulba laughed evilly, and then he walked off to see to his own pod.

What he had not thought of was that banthas were herbivores and would probably get mad bantha disease if they ate meat. If you could get them to eat Anakin-fodder in the first place, that is.

oOo

Qui-Gon had come down on the racetrack to give some last-minute advice to Anakin. Force forbid the boy should forget that there was always a bigger fish. It was unthinkable, and he would lose the race for sure.

The Jedi was taking a good look at the pods of the other contestants. Although they were as different as the Chancellor and a Sith Lord or Anakin and a creepy guy in a black suit, they all had something in common: they looked entirely unable to do anything but sit there and wait for the end of the universe, because that was what must happen before any one of them would move on their own.

Some of these vehicles (for lack of a better word) were designed in the style of pods that were actually used in real races, others looked even worse than Anakin's.

Right next to some really professional-looking dummy pod stood a very bizarre one. Its creator had obviously raided a hospital for his spare parts. The whole structure was based on one of those beds that were unique to hospitals. There were at least five different microscopes and syringes were sticking out in all directions. Qui-Gon could further identify a stethoscope, a heart-lung-machine, and was that a **proctoscope** there next to the pulse monitor? The Jedi could only shake his head. This really was nothing like the podraces he had seen on Malastare.

Anakin's mother was just leaving. He winked at her as she walked past him, then he walked up to Anakin's pod.

"You all set, Ani?" he asked.

"Yep."

"Right." Qui-Gon heaved Anakin into his pod. "Remember; concentrate on the moment. Feel, don't think. Use your instincts," he advised.

"I will," Anakin agreed. "I will have to, because I'm not even sure I could think if the situation required it. The only thing I'm positive I could manage was feeling and not thinking, so it's all the better that you don't tell me to pay attention or concentrate or _think_."

Qui-Gon expressed his desire that the Force be with Anakin, patted his head and then got off the track.

The commentator announced Jabba the Hutt, the obese giant slug-like creature who was both the official and unofficial ruler of Tatooine.

"_Welcome!_" Jabba boomed. "_Begin the race._"

That was the signal for the participants. Everyone turned on their machines and the remaining aides and flag-bearers quickly scrambled off the track lest they got run over (not very probable) or someone started throwing things at them (the probability of that was actually not all that small).

"Hey, looks like they're clearing the grid," the commentator commented.

Qui-Gon and Jar Jar joined Shmi and Padmé. Somehow, though they didn't have any money to spare, they had gotten seats in one of the VIP boxes. These were round saucers wrapped around huge poles, and they curiously resembled the flying saucers the Senators used in the great convocation chamber. In fact, these were the saucers that had been stolen some 17 years ago and since then, everyone (especially the Senate) had been puzzled where they had been taken and why someone needed 34 Senate saucers.

"Is he nervous?" Shmi asked.

"He's fine," Qui-Gon answered much too quickly.

Padmé was still not convinced by Qui-Gon's insane plan and his unreasonable trust in that boy. "You Jedi are far too reckless. The Queen is not-"

"The Queen trusts my judgement, young handmaiden," Qui-Gon once again interrupted Padmé's misgivings. "You should too," he admonished her, just a bit condescending.

"You assume too much," Padmé mumbled. "You assume that I don't know my own mind. I'm not that insane yet."

"Start your engines," Zaphod shouted, which was absolutely superfluous since everyone had already started them at Jabba's order. Everyone looked ready to take off. The huge screen opposite the stands flashed on and showed the pods on the grid. The engines roared, the participants were fervently manipulating the various joysticks or game pads they used as steering devices.

Jar Jar was quickly losing his nerve and making everyone else lose their nerves, too, with his incessant fidgeting. "Oh, dissen gonna be messy! Me no watch'n!" he screamed, clapping his hands on his eyes.

The starting signal was the head of some poor critter that Jabba bit off and spit against a gong. The small creature expressed his distaste by dying noiselessly; hoping that its silent protest would help make a better world for future generations of small poor critters. Unfortunately, its sacrifice was in vain, because Jabba would still eat the creature's relatives in about 35 years, when Luke would pay him a visit.

A light flashed, and the podracers on the big screen shot away like a bullet from a gun. The actual podracers on the racetrack predictably didn't move a single inch. Except for Anakin's. Of course, his heap of junk didn't move either, and everyone would have been highly surprised had it been any different. But neither did it move on the screen.

"Oh, no!" Anakin shouted.

"Wait. Little Skywalker has stalled!" the commentator jeered, eliciting terrified screams from Anakin's friends and raucous laughter from everyone else.

It seemed Anakin had forgotten to plug in his control pad and so his virtual pod didn't budge.

None of the actual pods budged, though, because unlike in real podraces, no one put his life at stake here. True, you could lose your lives, but you were never in actual danger of getting hurt or dying, because this was a competition in who was best at playing video games. It was all a racing game.

But Anakin wasn't the only one having trouble. "It looks like Quadinaros is having engine trouble also."

While Ben Quadinaros lost his last life because he drove into a wall, Anakin plugged his game pad in and instantly was off, in hot pursuit of the rest of the racers.

"And there goes Skywalker! He will be hard-pressed to catch up with the leaders."

Jar Jar cheered excitedly. "Go, Ani, go!"

The rest of the race is quickly told. Anakin lost a few lifes, especially when the levels got more demanding, with additional Tusken Raiders in the second level and engine trouble in the third level. Shmi and Padmé occasionally gasped anxiously, Jar Jar cheered, the commentator commented. In the end, Anakin won because of a telephone book, a piece of junk he hurled at Sebulba, making him lose his concentration, and some lucky coincidence which was not further specified.

"Yippie!" Anakin shouted. He was exuberant. He had won! Of course he knew that he would win but the actual winning was electrifying, all the same.

The crowd went completely wild.

Qui-Gon, Shmi, Jar Jar and Padmé quickly ran to Anakin's pod.

"Yay, Ani!" Jar Jar screeched.

Qui-Gon heaved Anakin up on his shoulders. Anakin was high-spirited, shouting: "Mom, I did it! Yay!"

So Anakin had really won the race. Qui-Gon was already looking forward to telling Obi-Wan that Anakin had won, and with an unmoving pod, at that. He really would like to see his apprentice's face when he heard that, he expected it to be priceless.

On Jabba's balcony, his assistant poked him to wake him back up again. The crime lord had never liked watching stupid video games for hours, they were excessively boring. For his tastes, not nearly enough people died doing it.

oOo

Edited on 21st January, 2011


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

Disclaimer: If they belonged to me, Qui-Gon would have said goodbye a bit more often, and bigger fishes would be all over the thing! (Bigger fishes rock!)

oOo

„Good going, Ani!" Jar Jar squeaked.

Anakin had just come back from the race. The Gungan grabbed the boy and threw him in the air. Just when Anakin came back down, Jar Jar suddenly got distracted by Padmé who was approaching them and so failed to catch the boy. The only thing that prevented Anakin from crashing to the ground was Qui-Gon. He stepped forward and Anakin fell on him.

"Oh, where did you come from?" Qui-Gon exclaimed as Anakin landed on him. "Wow, since when is it raining Chosen Ones?"

The Jedi Master put Anakin down again, where he immediately got embraced by Padmé.

"We owe you everything, Ani," she thanked him.

Then, last of all, it was Shmi's turn to hug her son. "It's so wonderful, Ani. You have brought hope to those who have none. I'm so very proud of you."

Shmi kissed her son, who looked slightly uncomfortable. He didn't want to be kissed by his mother in front of Padmé, especially when he would much rather be kissed by _her_.

"Where are you going?" Anakin asked when he saw Qui-Gon edging towards the exit. "You're not going to leave me like all the other daddies I've had so far, are you?" Anakin looked up at Qui-Gon with huge, pleading eyes.

"No, no. I'm just collecting my winnings," Qui-Gon hurried to assure the boy.

Qui-Gon's heart clenched painfully at the sad, forlorn look on Anakin's face. No, Qui-Gon would never cruelly abandon someone who loved him like a father, he was sure of it.

Padmé looked like she had just swallowed something revolting. She heartily disagreed with the almost dismissive way this Jedi gambled not only with _her_ ship which had all of _her_ favourite clothes on board, but with the welfare of _her_ planet and _her_ people. And maybe the way he used this boy and treated his Padawan were just a tiny bit manipulative and unfair, but that was not her business because these two were not _hers_, although she ardently wished it were otherwise (well, at least partly, because she didn't feel nearly old nor mature enough to care for a child).

Before Padmé could voice her qualms, though, Qui-Gon hastily left.

He really didn't feel like another of her sermons which were even worse than his Padawan's.

oOo

Watto was furious. Not only had he lost, but apparently, a few kids had been crazy enough to actually bet on Anakin! Anakin, who had never even finished a race, let alone won one! It was incredible and also fairly impossible. The boy had somehow managed to beat the elite gamers of Tatooine and neighbouring systems, and against all odds at that.

So now Watto had to hand over five chocolate bars and two bags of sweets. That was more than he could afford, really. Now he would somehow have to manage the remainder of the month without any chocolate. Not exactly a comforting thought, that.

The kids took off with their newly won sweets, delighted that they had actually _won_ something this time when they had only picked one of the racers at random.

Watto grudgingly sent them away.

Just then, Qui-Gon appeared. He was the last one Watto wanted to see at the moment. And Qui-Gon could certainly not be satisfied with some candies. He wanted a hyperdrive and, on top of that, he had also gained Anakin. Now Watto would lose the few extra wupiupis Anakin earned by cleaning the fans and their funny costumes.

"You!" the Toydarian spat. "You swindled me! You knew the boy was going to win. Somehow you knew it."

Watto pointed an accusing finger at the tall man before him. "I lost everything!" he finished accusingly, as if Qui-Gon was personally responsible for that (which in fact was not all that absurd, from a certain point of view).

"Whenever you gamble, my friend, eventually you lose," Qui-Gon replied calmly. "How often do I tell people to remember that there's always a bigger fish? And just how often does anyone ever heed my advice? Not even my apprentice, who should worship whatever I deem to teach him, wants to hear that. And yet, you see, there was once again a bigger fish, which would be me, in that case. There's always a bigger fish, after all."

Qui-Gon sighed happily. So much for Obi-Wan's opinion! As if his favourite saying was only applicable to actual fishes. In fact, it was almost always applicable, _except_ to actual fishes.

After thoroughly enjoying his short moment of bliss, Qui-Gon returned to business.

"Bring the parts to the main hangar. I'll come by your shop later on so you can release the boy."

But Watto vehemently protested. "You can't have him. It wasn't a fair bet. Besides, he 'the boy' as you like to call him _does_ have a name."

Watto's accusations were not just a suspicion. Watto knew that it was a fact, because naturally, his die had been tampered with. It practically never landed on blue. Ever. Due to that, though, he had expected to _win_, and not _lose_.

Watto had not been expecting what came next.

"Would you like to discuss it with the Hutts?" Qui-Gon suggested.

Now Watto had the ultimate proof that this man was definitely insane. Why in all the galaxy would the _Hutts_ care if anyone cheated? It was one of their own favourite pastimes, and they did it all the time. Not to mention that someone who tried to keep out of trouble, as this man obviously did, was very bad advised indeed if he drew the Hutt's attention to himself. Not to mention the probe droid (sent out by Darth Maul, who was still rather insensible to the world) that was just flying past the man's head. If he had wanted to remain inconspicuous, he had failed spectacularly.

"I'm sure they can settle this," Qui-Gon continued.

Watto had no doubts that they could. And he had entirely too good an idea just _how_ they would settle this: ultimately with two body bags which were a perfect fit for a certain Toydarian and a certain insane man.

Watto didn't want to end like this. He lowered his head and stroked the stubble on his chin, thinking. After a moment, he decided that Anakin was not worth all the trouble. He was just a little, if sometimes rather creepy, boy. Surely it would not mean the end of the universe if he let him go.

"Take him," Watto gave in.

The insane man just nodded, never knowing that he had just sealed Watto's fate. The Toydarian wouldn't be able to pay his rent anymore; he would have to sell Shmi to some gruff-looking moisture farmer to cover his debts and would eventually live on the streets, where Anakin would encounter him years later.

oOo

_One million three thousand nine hundred and twenty-five, one million three thousand nine hundred and twenty-six, one million three thousand nine hundred and twenty-seven…_

Obi-Wan was counting imaginary grains of sand. Not that there weren't enough real ones on Tatooine to count, it's just that there were none in the cockpit. He was incredibly bored, because he had not dared to leave the cockpit after the latest assault the handmaidens had launched on him. Apparently, they had managed to overcome their rivalry and had ganged up on him. When he had ventured out to the galley to grab something to eat, they had come in all at once, crowding the small room, and had _demanded_ he take part in a romantic picnic.

Obi-Wan had somehow managed to talk his way out of this, though he really didn't know how he had succeeded in convincing the girls to prepare yet another fashion show he had no intention whatsoever of attending. They had left, an excitedly chattering crowd, to tear apart the Queen's wardrobe to find the one gown that would most flatter their complexion/figure/shade of their eyes' colour.

Obi-Wan had used the opportunity to flee. So he had spent the last eighteen hours in the cockpit, becoming increasingly hungry because the girls had kept him from getting something to eat and he refused to eat one of the protein bars every Jedi carried with him unless he starved. So he had meditated until he felt that if he meditated any more, he would probably become the only person to become one with the Force before his death, he had looked up all the things he had always wanted to know on the holonet until the screen blurred before his eyes and he had tried to sleep in the pilot's seat, which had seemed increasingly impossible as the hours went by. So he had started counting grains of sand, not that it helped any, either.

_One million three thousand nine hundred and twenty-eight, one million three thousand nine hundred and twenty-nine, one million three thousand nine hundred and-_

Obi-Wan spotted two tall mounts carrying three people and pulling a huge sled on the horizon. That must be Qui-Gon, and Obi-Wan strongly suspected that the bulky thing the beasts pulled was either their new hyperdrive or Qui-Gon had made an incredible bargain and bought ten years' worth of toilet paper. The Padawan fervently hoped it was the former, though the latter was not as impossible as it sounded, not with Qui-Gon.

The Padawan was greatly relieved that his Master was finally returning. It meant that they would shortly leave this place. Obi-Wan wouldn't be sorry if he never had to see it again.

And as far as he could tell, his Master had returned without picking up yet another stray. Jar Jar was already bad enough.

Obi-Wan was reluctant to leave the cockpit too soon. The girls were still lurking somewhere out there and he didn't want to encounter any of them.

He waited patiently until all the girls had frantically scrambled off to reinstate some semblance of order to the Queen's wardrobe, which they had effectively torn apart in their eagerness to find the perfect dress. Only then (and after applying some disguising measures) did he dare to walk out to meet his Master.

Regrettably, Qui-Gon had not lost Jar Jar somewhere on the way, so the Gungan greeted Obi-Wan with a cheerful "Hidoe!" as they walked past each other. Well, at least Jar Jar greeted him, at all, unlike some other people he knew.

And as usual, Qui-Gon greeted him rather less cheerfully. "Well, we have all the essential parts we need."

In person, Qui-Gon was just as bad (if not worse) than on the comm.

Then, he squinted down at his apprentice. "You look… different today," the Master remarked. "Did you do something with your hair?"

Obi-Wan smiled. "Yes, actually I did. I put the braid behind the left ear today."

Qui-Gon looked puzzled. That sounded rather like the random idea he'd have, no his apprentice. "What did you do _that_ for?" he asked.

Obi-Wan's smile widened. "I know it's rather unorthodox, but this is a disguise," he explained.

Qui-Gon chortled. "Whatever. If you think that will work…" he said sceptically.

Obi-Wan, though, seemed rather unperturbed despite his Master's scepticism.

"I'm going back," Qui-Gon informed Obi-Wan. "Some unfinished business. I won't be long," he promised.

He still had to pick up his winnings, and then there were the 20,000 Republic credits he still had at his disposal. And he already knew exactly how to spend them. He had gotten that irresistible offer from Ben the real estate agent. It was a real bargain: a beautiful little timeshare hut out in the picturesque landscape of the Jundland Wastes for just 19,999 credits, and in only 15 years he could move in. That was exactly what he had in mind for his retirement.

But Qui-Gon couldn't fool his apprentice with his vague implications, except that Obi-Wan would never have guessed what his Master intended to do with their emergency allowance of 20,000 credits.

"Why do I sense we've picked up another pathetic life-form?" Obi-Wan asked with a slightly impish smile.

As if two of them weren't enough already. Now Qui-Gon needed a third one. Yes, two, because Obi-Wan by no means excluded himself from that category. In his experience, the more pathetic a life-form, the longer Qui-Gon allowed it to stay and the more of his attention it got. And Obi-Wan was perfectly aware that that made him, Qui-Gon's apprentice of almost thirteen years, the most pathetic one of them all.

Qui-Gon, though, disapproved of his Padawan's choice of words. "It's the boy who's responsible for getting us these parts," he scolded. "Get this hyperdrive generator installed."

Obi-Wan's expression instantly reverted from the teasing grin to a serious frown. Qui-Gon always took his teasing so _personal_. If ever he got an apprentice, he would make sure that his Padawan would understand sarcasm and teasing banter and could distinguish it from serious remarks.

"Yes, Master," he complied. "That shouldn't take long." _Though I will make it last until you return. I just don't want to have another of these awkward discussions with the handmaidens, especially not since their Queen has now returned._

Hopefully, Obi-Wan looked up at his Master when Qui-Gon said "Come on!"

Maybe his Master would take him along this time and leave the installation of the hyperdrive to the pilots. His hopes were shattered when Qui-Gon added "Hup!" along with a tug at the eopie's reins. The Master rode off without another word. Yet again.

Despite his resolution not to mind his Master's lack of fundamental formalities, Obi-Wan couldn't help to sigh sadly before he trudged back to the machine room of the ship to install the hyperdrive, an activity that he was sure would be avidly watched by at least half a dozen handmaidens. When the bad feeling that had slumbered in a way Obi-Wan could only describe as "drunk" or "hung-over" re-awoke and returned with a vengeance, the Padawan could no longer ignore the impression that the Force must somehow hold a grudge against him. The ear-splitting scream that was ripped from Padmé's slender throat as she discovered the state her wardrobe was in only confirmed this suspicion.

oOo

"Goodbye! And it was nice meeting you!" a very cheerful Ben the real estate agent yelled after Qui-Gon.

"It was my honour entirely. Goodbye!" Qui-Gon yelled back. It was a lucky coincidence which might well help preserve Obi-Wan's peace of mind that he was not there to hear it.

"What did you do in there, Qui-Gon, sir?" Anakin asked. The Jedi Master had asked him to wait outside while he had some unfinished business to attend to.

"Oh, I just made some arrangements for my retirement."

They walked beside each other through Mos Espa, silent for now.

As they neared Anakin's home, Qui-Gon suddenly remembered something.

"Hey, these are yours," he said, pushing a handful of credits at Anakin. He did it in the middle of a street in a very seedy city on a planet that was well-known for its high crime rate, yet not even one of the seedy creatures around them seemed to be interested in such a seemingly easy target as a small boy and a simple farmer.

"Yes!" Anakin had never held that much money in his hands. "Where did you get _that_ from?" he asked, slightly suspicious of the rather large and entirely unexpected amount of money.

"You see, I did some bargaining with Ben. He gave me a considerable discount because I offered him the fastest podracer ever."

"Wow, where did you get that?" Anakin wanted to know.

"I was talking about _your_ podracer, of course!"

Anakin sounded sceptical. "What, _mine_? But that's just a heap of junk!"

Qui-Gon winked at the boy. "You did win the race, didn't you? So yours must have been the fastest podracer, from a certain point of view."

At that point, they arrived at the front door to Anakin's home, where Shmi was waiting for their return.

Anakin excitedly shouted: "Mom, we sold the pod! Look at all the money we have!"

Shmi was just as excited as her son. "My goodness! But that's so wonderful, Ani!" she exclaimed. That much money would almost suffice to buy herself. Maybe if she sold Anakin's annoying and useless droid, she would have enough to buy her freedom. After all, what good was a droid that could tell you the exact difference between a **motet** and a cantata but was simply unable to do something that was actually _useful_ like sweep the floor?

That was when Qui-Gon dropped the bomb. "And he has been freed," he interjected.

Anakin was flabbergasted. "WHAT?" He couldn't believe his ears. He had been freed? When had that happened, and why hadn't Qui-Gon immediately told him? After all, one's freedom was not something one wanted to be told about _eventually_ but rather _right away_!

"You're no longer a slave," Qui-Gon reiterated, a wide smile all over his face.

Anakin turned around to his mother, amazement and happiness shining from his eyes.

"Did you hear that?" he asked her.

"Of course I heard than. I'm not deaf, you know? Oh, maybe I should rather say something better suited to the moment, perhaps something along the lines of: Now you can make your dreams come true, Ani. You are free."

Anakin looked stunned. "Wow. Even the one where I dreamed I was a Jedi? I came back here and freed all the slaves. I also dreamed I was a slice of delicious pizza with extra cheese, and Jabba the Hutt ate me. That one was weird. But not as bad as the one where-"

Shmi interrupted her babbling son before he couldn't be stopped anymore.

"Will you take him with you?" she asked Qui-Gon. "Is he to become a Jedi?"

"Yes," Qui-Gon reassured her. "Our meeting was not a coincidence. Nothing happens by accident. Well, except for accidents, really, but they don't count because they make the statistics of what I just said look really bad."

Anakin still couldn't believe his good luck. "You mean I get to come with you in your starship? And we'll sail away into the west, to the eternal lands where the elves go? I've always wanted to see the elves, Mister Frodo." Suddenly, Anakin stopped. "Huh? What was that? Wrong movie, I guess. Sorry, that happens sometimes. Just ignore it."

Qui-Gon and Shmi exchanged a confused look, but then, the Jedi Master kneeled down and rested his hands on Anakin's shoulders.

"Anakin, training to become a Jedi is not an easy challenge and even if you succeed, it's a hard life."

"But I wanna go!" Anakin pleaded. "It's what I've always dreamed of doing. Besides being a slice of pizza and getting eaten by Jabba, that is."

Anakin turned around to his mother since his begging didn't seem to have the desired effect on Qui-Gon, which was rather unexpected because only five seconds ago, the Jedi had been more than enthusiastic at the thought of getting to take Anakin with him.

"Can I go, mom?" Anakin begged. He was diligently practicing his puppy-eyed look. Somehow he got the feeling that he would need it with the Jedi.

Shmi gently took her son's hand into hers. "Anakin, this path has been placed before you. And unless you want me to walk all over to walk it for you, the choice is yours alone."

Anakin thought about that for a moment. It felt nice, to be the one making the decisions.

"I wanna do it," he declared determinedly.

Qui-Gon stood up again. "Then pack your things, we haven't much time. I couldn't even tell you yesterday so you could properly say your goodbyes to your mother and your friends. But then again, I think that goodbyes are overrated, anyway."

Anakin immediately ran off to grab his things, shouting "Yippie!"

Just as he reached to the door to his room, though, he noticed that his mom hadn't joined in with his scream of joy. He turned back around.

"What about mom? Is she free, too?" he asked worriedly.

"I tried to free your mother, Ani, but Watto wouldn't have it. Well, I didn't try all that hard, obviously, mainly because I'm not very good at that kind of thing if I can't use mind tricks. Maybe I should have brought along Obi-Wan, he's really good with words and can be very convincing if he sets his mind on it."

Anakin wondered for a second who this OB-1 Qui-Gon was talking about might be. He thought that maybe this was the guy Qui-Gon had been talking to on the phone, the one who had called Qui-Gon "Master" and who had this precise accent and exact manner of talking.

Anakin wondered if this OB-1 was Qui-Gon's protocol droid and whether he was as annoying as C-3PO was.

Then, the reality of what was going on hit him, and all thoughts of droids were forgotten.

"You're coming with us, aren't you, mom?" Anakin once again gave evidence that he was not exactly the fastest thinker.

Shmi tried to console her son and encourage him to make a decision that would enable him to have a better life. Also, it was so much easier to find a husband if you didn't have a kid.

"Son, my place is here. My future is here. My future husband lives just around the corner. How am I supposed to meet him when I come with you? It is time for you to let go."

Yoda would have been ecstatic, had he heard that.

"I don't want things to change," Anakin whined. "I only want to marry Padmé, but she could move in with us, couldn't she?"

Now it was Shmi who bend down to talk to her son.

"But you can't stop the change any more than you can stop the suns from setting."

"I could stop the suns from setting if I blew them up, couldn't I?" he mumbled.

"Sure you could," Shmi comforted him. Then she whispered: "I love you." Then she tightly hugged her son. "Now hurry," she sent him off to pack.

As soon as Anakin was gone, she turned to Qui-Gon. "Thank you, for all you've done. I hope you will be a good daddy for him."

"I'll watch after him. You have my word," Qui-Gon promised her.

Shmi seemed sad, which was not all that surprising, since she was just giving up her son to an unknown destiny. Qui-Gon was concerned for her, because they had, after all, shared an intimate closeness that sometimes succeeded in making people care for each other.

He gently put a hand on her shoulder and asked: "Will you be all right?"

Shmi sighed a feeble "Yeah."

Then they both decided to spend the remaining time with something more enjoyable than saying farewell.

oOo

As soon as Anakin had entered his room, he switched 3PO on.

"Hello, Master Anakin," the droid stammered.

"Well, C-3PO, I've been freed and I'm going away in a starship," Anakin all but bragged.

"Master Anakin, you are my maker and I wish you well. However, I should prefer it if I were a little more completed. I mean, look at me. If I had genitals everybody could see them! As it is, no one can see anything because unfortunately there is nothing to see! Don't you think that is an abomination?"

"I'm sorry I wasn't able to finish you, 3PO, give you coverings and all the other, erm, important parts. I'm gonna miss working on you. You've been a great pal and an annoying blabbermouth. I'll make sure mom doesn't sell you or anything."

3PO was shocked. "Sell me?" he asked incredulously.

Anakin almost spat an exasperated bye. He, at least, had the decency to say goodbye to someone who called him "Master".

"Oh, my" 3PO sighed. Now he would never get his nice, golden coverings in this Episode. He would have to phone his agent about that. As a famous movie star, he simply couldn't work like that!

oOo

Edited on 11th Februay, 2011


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

Disclaimer: As you can probably tell, I don't own anything, not even Hamlet. If you can't tell, maybe you should have your common sense examined…

oOo

Obi-Wan watched his Master disappear in the distance. He couldn't help but wonder how Qui-Gon managed to pick up these pathetic creatures on almost all of their missions. Although it was not unusual for Qui-Gon to go out of his way to help the poor beings and even grant them residence in their quarters at the Jedi Temple, he would inevitably lose interest in them once they had returned home and their newness had worn off.

And so Obi-Wan had been scratched, drooled on, haired on, bitten, peed on, poisoned (thankfully only once) and even thrown out of his bed by a sick skunk which Qui-Gon insisted needed a warm and comfortable place to sleep. After the animal had been nursed back to health, Obi-Wan had even voluntarily prolonged his occupation of the living room because he simply couldn't stand the stench that had lingered for more than a fortnight. Somehow he was sure that one of the life-forms Qui-Gon picked up would someday be the death of him, but he was equally sure that that would not happen for many years to come.

After he had stared at the horizon for a whole five minutes, lost in thought, Obi-Wan shook off the tight feeling on his chest and returned to the ship. But he was still so distracted that he noticed the two handmaidens heading his way too late to avoid them successfully.

One of the girls was already giggling and pointing his way.

"Look, it's Obi-Wan! Isn't he gorgeous?" she whispered just loud enough for the Padawan to hear her (and consequently blush such a bright shade of red that any tomato in range would have died of shame, but the only thing even remotely resembling a tomato for 500 miles around was the freeze-dried powder in the fridge of the ship's galley).

So Qui-Gon had been right. The disguise, which had been a rather feeble camouflage in the first place, wasn't working.

But then, to Obi-Wan's eternal surprise and eventual delight, the other girl swatted lightly at the first girl's arm and whispered urgently: "No, stupid! It's not. Look at him! The braid's behind the left ear, right? But Obi-Wan wears his behind the right ear, so it can't be him."

The first girl mumbled a disappointed "Oh, yes. I see." Then she protested disbelievingly: "But he looks just like him!"

The other handmaiden shushed her quickly. "Yes, but it's not him, that's probably his evil twin. And taking into consideration just how dangerous that lightsaber-thing looks, I wouldn't want to cross Obi-Wan's evil twin. That might be perilous! Though I have to admit that he does look gorgeous all the same."

The first girl looked terrified. After fearfully staring at him as he walked past them, they swiftly fled to the Queen's quarters without further bothering Obi-Wan, who was genuinely thankful for their quick retreat.

With a relieved grin on his lips and feeling much more cheerful, the Padawan walked off to install the new hyperdrive, a slight but noticeable spring in his step.

On the way to the engine room, he returned the braid to its proper place. The disguise had served its purpose, and the handmaidens wouldn't bother him while he was working with the hyperdrive. They were too much afraid of getting oil or engine coolant on their clothes.

oOo

Shmi sighed sadly. Saying goodbye to her son once had been heart-wrenching enough, and Anakin had said goodbye at least a hundred times already. Now, he was finally leaving with Qui-Gon, whom she had previously said goodbye in her own, private way.

Just as she was about to return back inside, though, Anakin turned around _yet again_.

He looked questioningly at Qui-Gon before he ran back to his mother to hug her tightly just one more last time.

"I can't do it, mom. I just can't do it," he whined.

His mother sighed yet again. "Ani, we've been through this already. You will go and become a Jedi, I will marry Cliegg and live with him and his family until the Sand People abduct me, you will return and watch me die before you'll finally turn to the Dark Side. You see, there's no need to worry!" she patiently explained once again, though it was highly doubtful that there really was no need to worry if all she had just said would come true.

But Anakin hadn't been listening, just like the he had done for the previous two and a half hours, because that was how long they were saying goodbye already.

"Will I ever see you again?" he whimpered.

"What does your heart tell you?" Shmi prompted him gently. Maybe this approach would work better; at least it would give her son something to think about.

"Um, well, I never actually listened." Anakin was silent for a moment, his head tilted to the side, listening intently to something only he could hear. A look of displeasure settled on his face. "I don't understand what it says; it just does this thumping noise over and over again. It's rather tiresome to listen for a proper answer if you don't speak the right language, you know," he complained. "It seems I haven't learned my Huttese by heart, after all."

"Oh, Anakin! When will you ever get the hang of metaphors?" Shmi sighed yet again. "Maybe sometime someone will explain them to you so you'll actually understand. What I meant was rather something along the lines of: What do you think? What does your intuition tell you? And don't tell me you can't understand that, either, because that's what you listen to the most."

Anakin thought for another moment. Then he stammered: "I hope so. Yes. No. Maybe. Perhaps. Certainly. I don't think so. I guess."

"Then we will see each other again," Shmi reassured her confused son.

"I will come back and free you, mom. I promise," Anakin vowed.

Shmi caressed his face one last time. "Don't promise me that. You know you never keep any promises, you rather forget about them the moment you finish saying them. Now, be brave and don't look back," she instructed him. "Don't look back."

With lots of sad glances and two very long faces, yet without saying another goodbye (Qui-Gon looked oddly pleased that Anakin was already adopting his mannerisms) Anakin walked off at last, and although he usually never heeded any instructions, orders, requests, advice or any other such things, he did not turn around again.

For a moment, Shmi stood there, a solitary figure looking sad and alone. Then she straightened and walked back into her apartment to fix her hair and put on some make-up and a nice dress. After all, she had a future husband to charm…

oOo

While Anakin was saying his final goodbye to his mother, Darth Maul hesitantly walked out into the sunshine. When he stepped out into the stark light of Tatooine's two suns, their glare almost blinded his eyes. He flinched back into the shadows, massaging his throbbing temples. Why did he try to cure his hangover with another night at the local cantina again? Surely Darth Sidious, his immensely wise and evil Sith Master, must have told him that it was imprudent to fight the effects of too much booze with even more booze. With a low groan, the Sith apprentice tried to face the brilliant light outside again. With a bit of help from the Dark Side, he managed to banish the worst of his headache, though his face stayed frozen in a drawn grimace and his eyes were even more red-rimmed than was usual even for him.

As soon as he had strayed a few steps from his ship, one of his probe droids came flying at him, bleeping excitedly. It had been waiting outside for the better part of three hours since it had returned from Mos Espa, where it had spotted the Jedi they were looking for.

Darth Maul was not exactly full of joy at the prospect of having to face a Jedi with his head threatening to start splitting apart again at any moment, but he would have to manage. It wouldn't do to disappoint his Master, if only because that tended to be rather unhealthy for the one doing the disappointing.

Slowly, Darth Maul walked over to his swoop-bike. He paused for a second, after all he didn't want to be caught driving under the influence. Then he remembered that the police forces on Tatooine worked more than sloppily and could easily be distracted with a cuddly teddy-ewok if need be. That was possible because there was only one police officer on the whole of Tatooine, and he was self-appointed at that. His name was Ben (of course) and he had escaped from a lunatic asylum to "bring justice and help the poor", as he proclaimed to anyone who was foolish enough to lend him even half an ear.

Darth Maul scrambled on his bike and revved the engine. It gave a satisfactory roar before it suddenly lurched forward. Right then, the Sith spotted a bright pink post-it on the handle of his bike, on which he had scribbled the words "DON'T FORGET" next to a squiggly line he had drawn down the length of the brightly coloured piece of paper.

Darth Maul thought about this mysterious note for a moment, but couldn't for the life of him recall exactly _what_ it was he shouldn't forget.

The memory returned rather abruptly when the object of this forgotten memory approached him at terminal velocity.

As he fell down that blasted cliff a second time in as many days, he thought, his mind still a bit befuddled:_ Oh, yeah, the cliff… that's what I wanted to remember. I just hope no one saw that_._ A Sith falling down the same cliff not only once but twice. My reputation would be irreparably damaged._

Then he sped off towards Mos Espa, never noticing the Jawa that was hidden behind a big boulder, silently laughing its head off at the evil guy's idiocy.

oOo

If Anakin suspected that Qui-Gon's sanity was occasionally… well, lacking, he now had the ultimate proof. No one in his right mind would _run_ on Tatooine, and yet the Jedi showed no signs of slowing down.

"Are we there yet?" he gasped for the fifteenth time.

"No, just a bit further!" was Qui-Gon's answer, just like it had been the last fourteen times.

Slowly, Anakin started to wonder just how much further "just a bit" was.

When he felt that he would surely drop from exhaustion any second, he shouted: "Qui-Gon, sir, wait! I'm tired!"

When Qui-Gon actually stopped and turned around, he was so surprised that he instantly sat down, which was just what the Jedi was telling him to do, anyway.

"Anakin, drop!" Qui-Gon shouted when he spotted a figure swathed in black quickly approaching Anakin.

As soon as the bike had flown over the boy (thankfully it was a floating bike because otherwise Anakin would have been squarely run over) the man on the bike jumped off and attacked Qui-Gon with a blood-red lightsaber before he had even touched the ground.

Anakin gaped at the spectacle that was unfolding before his eyes. He had never seen a Jedi in action, and he was awed by what he saw. Qui-Gon battled this dark stranger with such grace and skill, and the dark stranger did such cool stunts that Anakin could only stare at the fighters, unable to move. The two combatants were locked in fierce battle. They were slashing and hacking at each other, blocking and parrying the swings and attacks of their opponents. It was a flurry of green and red light, the back and forth between Jedi and Sith. Qui-Gon executed a few flips that should be impossible for a mere human to do, but his adversary was not impressed. Darth Maul only sneered at him, looking for all the world like he wanted to **eviscerate** Qui-Gon on the spot.

Anakin really wished he could do such awesome things, too. As soon as they were back on the ship, he wouldn't stop nagging at Qui-Gon to teach him some of his moves.

He was ripped from his reverie when Qui-Gon yelled at him.

"Go!" he shouted. "Tell them to take off."

Anakin wished he could somehow help the Jedi against this formidable opponent. Maybe he could attack the Sith without thinking first, but that might end in him getting zapped with Force lightning and losing his arm. Or maybe he would defeat the Sith by cutting off his hands and finally beheading him.

Then he remembered that he didn't even have a lightsaber (for a second he wondered why there was this exasperated voice whispering in his ear that '_this weapon is your life, Anakin!'_) and so he scrambled off towards the ship, missing the remainder of the spectacular fight.

When Anakin entered the cool, clean air of the spaceship, he didn't immediately spot anyone whom he could tell about Qui-Gon's difficulties with the menacing stranger, so he shrugged and instead looked for something of interest to him, quickly forgetting about the fight outside. To his delight, he spotted Padmé, Captain Panaka and Jar Jar standing in an adjacent hallway.

"Hey, what are you guys up to?" he asked.

Padmé shrugged. "Uh, nothing, I guess, since we are not filming right now. So you are coming with us now? That's great!"

"Eh. If nothing's going on here, I should have stayed outside and watched the battle, at least that was interesting," he complained.

"Huh? Which battle?" Padmé asked, baffled.

"Erm, the one Qui-Gon is having with that dangerous dark dude, just outside the door."

"Yousa saying there se battle outside? Urgh!" Jar Jar squeaked.

Padmé suggested: "Maybe we should tell Obi-Wan about that." The other girls had told her about the workout they had witnessed, and now she was eager to see some of that herself.

Anakin wondered what a protocol droid might be able to do about the formidable foe Qui-Gon was battling, but if Padmé wanted to do it, it was fine by him, no matter how unreasonable it might be.

They ran to the cockpit and entered (thus violating the no-girls rule) just as Obi-Wan informed the pilots: "Qui-Gon's in trouble."

After all he shared a training bond with Qui-Gon, which had been screaming "danger" at him since the fight had begun. Obi-Wan frowned, looking out and trying to spot his Master in all the whirling clouds of dust and sand the combatants had created.

"Take off," Obi-Wan advised the pilot.

Padmé heartily approved of that, she certainly wouldn't mind leaving the Master behind, not after the last few days with him. She had grown rather tired of his strange views of the world, and if she had to hear about Chosen Ones or the Living Force one more time, she would start screaming and not stop till she was either out of breath or the Sith took over the Galaxy, whichever should occur first.

But then, the Padawan continued: "Over there, fly low."

He had spotted a whirling green blade clashing against a blood-red one in heated battle. The pilot took off and he steered the big silver spaceship towards the fight.

"Oh no, you left the hatch open!" Padmé shouted and quickly pressed the button to close it.

"Of course I did," Obi-Wan countered, swiftly opening the hatch again. "That was the plan, after all. I _could_ have joined the fight and help my Master defeat this foe, of course, but this is Tatooine and it is awfully hot and sandy outside, and I don't want to spend any more time on this planet that I absolutely have to. And it's much too early for the epic battle, anyway, so I decided that giving Master Qui-Gon a chance to escape is under these circumstances probably the best course of action."

Thankfully, Qui-Gon took the chance to escape Obi-Wan was offering him and didn't let his stubbornness win out and stay to fight the Sith, which would probably have ended in his even more premature death than was in store for him, anyway. The Jedi Master jumped unto the lowered hatch and the ship sped off, leaving Darth Maul behind in the desert, glowering menacingly after the escaping Jedi. He vowed not to let them escape a second time.

oOo

Obi-Wan rushed to his Master's side to make sure Qui-Gon was all right. He was closely followed by the sandy-haired boy he had noticed arriving in the cockpit with Padmé earlier. So that was probably Qui-Gon's newest project. Obi-Wan had to admit that he did look rather pathetic, staring up at everyone with curiosity and just a tad of endearing shyness in these huge blue eyes of his. Normally the Padawan would have introduced himself and made the boy feel welcome because he would have to deal with him sooner or later, anyway, and although he might seem a bit detached at times, he was certainly neither heartless nor unfriendly.

At the moment, though, Obi-Wan was more worried for his Master than for the boy.

Qui-Gon sat on the floor, gasping for breath. Obi-Wan ran to him, a concerned look on his face. It was rather unusual for his Master to be so winded from this rather short fight, even though Tatooine _was_ awfully hot and sandy.

Before he could ask how Qui-Gon was doing, though, a frantic Anakin beat him to it.

"Are you all right?"

"I think so."

Qui-Gon seemed a bit shaken, which only served to increase Obi-Wan's concerns. Qui-Gon usually was not easy to upset.

"What was it?" Obi-Wan enquired. If that weren't entirely impossible, he thought he had detected a flicker of _fear_ in Qui-Gon's eyes, and that worried him greatly because Qui-Gon was never afraid. Ever.

Qui-Gon was still breathing heavily.

"I'm not sure," he conceded, which in itself was an extremely unusual thing for Qui-Gon, who usually so firmly believed in his opinions. "But it was well trained in the Jedi arts," he finished. His answer didn't calm Obi-Wan's concerns in the least.

Somewhere down on the planet, Darth Maul protested loudly. "IT! I'm not an IT, I'm a HE! And I've got a name, for Force's sake!" Unsurprisingly, his objections went unheard by anyone aside from a womprat or two.

"My guess is it was after the Queen," Qui-Gon continued, who wouldn't be able to tell the Queen from her handmaidens if they did a little dance on his nose or a fashion show right in front of his eyes.

"What are we gonna do about it?" Anakin anxiously asked at once.

Obi-Wan was confused. He had quite a few good ideas what _he_ would do about that, though he couldn't imagine what a small boy like Anakin could possibly do about someone who had managed to rough up Qui-Gon so effortlessly.

"We shall be patient," was Qui-Gon's answer, "and always keep in mind that there are-"

"Please, Master," Obi-Wan couldn't help but interrupt him. "No more lectures about the existence and **ubiety** of fishoid life forms of greater proportions. You've said that so often that you managed to make it an empty phrase. You've robbed it of its meaning, so please don't harp upon it any more than is absolutely indispensable."

Anakin looked a bit confounded. He wondered where this guy came from and what language he was speaking, since he hadn't understood a word of what had just been said.

Usually Obi-Wan wouldn't be so disrespectful towards his Master, but this boy, even though he was just a small and innocent-looking child, for no readily apparent reason gave him the heebie-jeebies. For a second, he thought he heard the noise of harsh mechanical breathing and saw a shiny black helmet with huge insect-like eyes instead of the boy's bright blue ones. The bad feeling returned with a vengeance. Frowning, Obi-Wan told himself to _get off it_. It was not like this child was evil incarnate or something, after all.

"Oh, all right," Qui-Gon grumbled. Here he was, trying to teach Anakin this extremely important lesson…

Then he remembered that it was high time someone introduced Anakin to the person who would take care of the child when he inevitably lost interest in him.

"Anakin Skywalker, meet Obi-Wan Kenobi," he said, still a bit out of breath.

Anakin turned around to face the young man he had first seen in the cockpit. "Hi," he said. So that was this OB-1 guy. If he was really a protocol droid, he was the most impressively human-looking droid Anakin had ever seen.

Yet, his hand was warm to the touch, and he even gave Anakin a slightly lopsided smile. Anakin was pretty sure that no droid could smile, and especially not lopsidedly, no matter how sophisticated a machine it might be.

But just to make sure, he asked: "You're a Jedi, too?" He received a hesitant nod as an answer, though the slightly perplexed look on Obi-Wan's face was replaced with barely concealed amusement when Anakin continued: "Pleased to meet you!"

Qui-Gon laughed a bit. He was glad that his Padawan and Anakin seemed to like each other quite well. That suited him just fine, in fact.

"Obi-Wan, why don't you get Anakin settled and give him something to eat and generally make him feel welcome. And Anakin, you can ask my Padawan anything you want, I'm quite sure he has an answer for almost everything. I'll have to go and do my hair; it's gone all frizzy in the dry climate. It needs to be combed and shampooed and I will need at least half a bottle of conditioner and my curlers. I hope I did bring them along. Well, if not I will have to borrow some from the Queen, she will have some, I'm sure. That should take up the whole afternoon, so you two just think of something to do, right? Right."

Content that he had now given both Anakin and Obi-Wan something to do he stalked off to find the nearest fresher.

oOo

So Obi-Wan found himself alone with the child sooner than he had expected. Anakin was still smiling up at him expectantly, as if he waited for the Padawan to jump into action and do something incredible any second.

Obi-Wan feared that he might have to disappoint Anakin's expectations, but he thought that a decent meal (as decent as was possible on a spaceship, anyway) should make up for that.

"So, Anakin…" Obi-Wan still was a bit unsure about this boy. "How about we find you a place to put your bag and then go to the galley and look if we can find something to eat? And maybe I can answer a few of the questions you surely have," he suggested.

"Wow, wizard!" shouted Anakin, instantly taking a liking to this young man who offered him _food_, his most favourite stuff in the Galaxy. "So how is it? To be a Jedi, I mean? Do you like being one? What do you do the whole day if you don't rescue Queens? What do you do if you _do _rescue Queens?"

Before Anakin could continue his barrage of questions, Obi-Wan answered: "I couldn't imagine being anything else than a Jedi. Like most Jedi, I was accepted into the Temple when I was but very young. For the last thirteen years, I've been living with Master Qui-Gon, who teaches me the ways of the Force and everything else I need to know so that I can become a halfway decent Jedi Knight someday."

"Wow, wizard!" Anakin shouted excitedly. "I wanna be a Jedi, too. Can I? Can I, can I, can I, can I? Please?" he begged.

Obi-Wan laughed quietly. "That's not for me to decide," he explained patiently. "I think Master Qui-Gon will try to get you accepted into the Order, but whether you will be accepted or not is not for him to decide, either, I'm afraid. You are a bit older than the children who are usually admitted, though that doesn't have to mean anything. The Council will ultimately decide about your future. Only the wisest and most powerful Jedi are asked to join the Council. They ponder and discuss the Force to lead the Jedi Order in accordance with its will."

"Is Master Qui-Gon on the Council, too?" Anakin asked.

Once again, Obi-Wan laughed softly as he imagined Qui-Gon sitting in one of the plush Council chairs, arguing heatedly with the rest of its venerable members about whether his favourite saying were valid **submissions** to a hypothetical competition for the creation of new Jedi proverbs.

"No, he isn't. It's not because of lack of wisdom, though. Master Qui-Gon is very wise, in his own kind of way, but he also continually disagrees with the Council's verdicts. He can be very stubborn, you see? If the Council's opinion and what he perceives as the will of Living Force are at odds, which in Master Qui-Gon's opinion they are quite often, he argues with the most revered Masters and never gives in, and not even Master Yoda can persuade him to change his mind."

At that point, they arrived in front of the door to the Jedi's quarters on the spaceship. Obi-Wan pressed the button to open the door, and it disappeared into the wall with a soft swishing noise.

"So here we are. This is the room my Master and I were assigned. You can leave your bag here. I'm afraid that we'll have to look for another place for you to sleep, though. It's not like I wouldn't give you my sleep couch," he hastily added as he saw the disappointed look on Anakin's face. "But with Qui-Gon sleeping in the other bunk, it's highly improbable that you would catch a single second of sleep." Obi-Wan cleared his throat before he continued with just a hint of embarrassment colouring his voice: "My Master snores. And it's not just your everyday loud breathing; I'm talking about a full-blown snore which is just as loud as if not even louder than a whole arena full of bloodthirsty Geonosians, and just as detrimental to one's health."

Anakin stared up at the Padawan, amazed and also a bit unbelieving. "How can you sleep if he's that loud?" he asked.

"I use the Force to plug my ears. I've learned that trick shortly after I became Qui-Gon's Padawan, because I didn't sleep a single second during the first few nights, and that despite the fact that I had my own room, which was separated from Qui-Gon's by two walls and a hallway. I guess I'll eventually have to teach you how to do that, too, because Qui-Gon will surely offer you accommodation in our quarters once we are back on Coruscant. Besides, it comes in handy quite often actually, but for today, I think you already have enough new things to adjust to and I don't want to overexert your capacity to learn new things." Obi-Wan gave Anakin a reassuring smile and received an appreciative one in return.

Obi-Wan continued: "I guess you can share a room with Jar Jar. He's actually not all that bad, at least not when he's asleep."

That remark earned him a snicker from Anakin.

"Now, how about we find you something to eat?" Obi-Wan suggested.

Anakin's only answer to that was a loud "Yippie!"

oOo

Obi-Wan watched Anakin inhale the heaps of food they had gotten from the galley, fascinated by the way such a little boy could eat so much in so little time.

"Hey, that's really good," Anakin mumbled between mouthfuls.

The boy swallowed the bite he was chewing and asked: "So who is this Master Yoda you were talking about?"

Then he immediately shoved another piece of food into his mouth.

Obi-Wan thought about that question for a second.

"Master Yoda is the most respected Jedi Master in the Order. He is also green, wrinkly, has huge pointy ears and big eyes, is about 860 years old and about that tall." Obi-Wan indicated the diminutive Master's height with a gesture.

The look of amazement on Anakin's face was priceless. Anakin wondered how such a weird creature could be the most respected Jedi Master. After a short contemplation, though, he glared at Obi-Wan and an offended pout twisted his elfin features. "Now you're making fun of me. That's not very nice. As if I'd fall for such an obvious lie."

Obi-Wan considered putting a hand to his chest in overly dramatic mock-hurt that Anakin would suspect him of lying, but he didn't know the boy long enough to dare such jokes yet. So he just settled for a mischievous grin instead. "Jedi don't lie," he earnestly informed Anakin. "We might be wont to occasionally tell the truth from a certain point of view, but we don't lie."

Seeing Anakin's face so clearly reflecting perplexity, the Padawan said: "I know what you must be thinking right now. You are probably asking yourself how such a weird creature could be the most respected Jedi Master. That's quite a long story, actually…"

Obi-Wan then proceeded to tell Anakin a story about a small planet somewhere on the edge of the boring and unfashionable part of the galaxy. The only inhabitants of this planet were plants of all kinds. They were mostly like all the other plants in the galaxy, with the exception of their bigger size. In a particularly nice and sunny spot, there grew a pea. It carried but one huge, round and brightly green pea in a pod, which was quite content to simply sit there and do photosynthesis and grow even more huge and round and brightly green.

At some point, due to its especially sunny spot, the pea got an unhealthy dosage of radiation from the planet's sun, and its genes started to mutate. This genetically modified pea suddenly had a conscience, and it thought that just sitting there to grow even more huge and round and brightly green was in fact quite dull. A few hundred mutations later, it was finally able to detach itself from its mother plant and decided that the rest of the galaxy would probably be quite an interesting and exciting place to visit.

What the pea hadn't thought of was that without the roots of its mother plant, the water supply wouldn't be guaranteed any more. Without enough water, it started to shrink and grow all wrinkly. By then, the pea had evolved so much that it rather resembled a shrunken and wrinkled alien instead of its former huge and round shape, though it was still brightly green due to the high level of chloroplasts in its (or his, as was appropriate by then) cells. By then, it/he was able to ingest the water it/he needed by means of a mouth, though the wrinkles and shrivelled look wouldn't go away any more, no matter how much water it/he drank.

At some point, the pea took the pod it had grown in and used it to fly to another planet (thereby establish the creature's liking of escape pods, which would come in handy later on Kashyyk). A space pilot picked up the mutated pea, named it Yoda after his grandmother's special pea soup and gave it to the Jedi Temple, where Yoda was accepted for training. That was about 839 years ago.

Yoda's ability to learn Basic, the language spoken in most parts of the Galaxy, was remarkable. Granted, his grammar was horrendous, but considering that he is a genetically modified plant, the fact that he could speak was by itself a miracle.

Eventually, Yoda became a Knight, then a Master and finally he was elected to become a member of the Council, where he has since then never failed to annoy his fellow councillors with his warped grammar.

"So don't be surprised by Master Yoda's twisted way of talking or the weird things he occasionally says. Just remember that for a mutated pea, he speaks really well and is extraordinarily intelligent, given that an average pea has no brain cells at all. And it has become much easier to understand him, now that he's finally learned to speak the modern variety of Basic instead of the anachronistic expressions he used to use. It was rather difficult to gather what he said when he completely twisted the structure of these old-fashioned sentences, which were not all that easy to understand in the first place. If he wanted to say, for example, something like this:

_Thus conscience doth make cowards of us all;_

_And thus the native hue of resolution, _

_Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought, _

_And enterprises of great pith and moment,_

_With this regard their currents turn awry,_

_And lose the name of action._

He would instead say:

_Make cowards of us all, thus conscience doth;_

_And thus, with the pale cast of thought,_

_sicklied o'ver, the native hue of resolution is…_

I think I'll stop here now that you've got an impression of what his way of speaking used to be. I've always wondered why he would recite such long passages from Shakespeare's _Hamlet_, though. Now, he would just say things like how there is no try or how various things lead to the Dark Side," Obi-Wan finished.

Anakin blinked a few times and tried to comprehend what Obi-Wan had just told him. He didn't have such a firm grasp of genetics or the concepts of evolution or literature that he could comprehend all the things the Padawan had just explained to him, but if he had caught the gist of what Obi-Wan had said rightly, then a_ mutated pea_ was the leader of the Jedi Order? Anakin finished his meal, shaking his head to help clear his thoughts.

"So, are you finished eating?" Obi-Wan asked him.

Anakin nodded vigorously.

"Well then, I've heard that you're quite the mechanic. Maybe you want to take a look at the engine room?"

Anakin nodded even more vigorously, quite pleased with the prospect of spending the day there, having a look at all the different machines that kept the ship functioning.

Obi-Wan was quite pleased with the prospect of an afternoon spent out of the reach of the handmaidens, who usually didn't enter the engine room for fear of ruining their dresses. And since no one had properly told them about the attack yet, they were probably still in a flurry of hysteria, but he was quite willing to let Captain Panaka do the calming down.

oOo

Author's note: I was asked to include some old English, like from Shakespeare. I randomly chose a few lines from Shakespeare's _Hamlet_ and I hope you like the way I put it in the story (I admit it was a rather difficult challenge).

Edited on 11th February, 2011


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars, and all hail Citizenjess for inventing that awesome word 'Naboobies' which I certainly don't want to steal but since I was asked to put it in here, I did and hope I didn't gain anyone's disapproval by that.

oOo

It was night on Naboo. Well, at least on the side of Naboo Theed was on. On the other side, it was midmorning and the sun was shining brightly, with just a few wisps of clouds to occasionally drift through the sky, but that was of no immediate importance to the conversation taking place in the palace between Nute Gunray, the viceroy of the Trade Federation, and Sio Bibble, the governor of Naboo.

"Your Queen is lost, your people are starving, and you, Governor, are going to die much sooner than your people, I'm afraid," Gunray quietly threatened. "I mean, did you recently consult your physician? You look kind of unhealthy, old and rather feeble. Under the circumstances, that is quite understandable, after all you've been under quite a lot of pressure lately, with the invasion and all. If we keep this up, you will probably have had a heart attack by the end of the week."

The Governor huffed, offended. But Nute's concerns for the older man's health were not just imaginary, of which Sio Bibble's loud puffing and his high blood pressure gave evidence.

But despite his recent health issues, the Governor didn't give up. "This invasion will gain you nothing," he insisted. "We're a democracy. The people have decided. And they have decided that they don't like you. Not even you can do anything against the people's opinion; it will be your downfall."

"Uuuuuh, the people's opinion. I'm terrified!" Gunray mocked. "These people will see what good deciding will do them. We will bully them into submission, you will see. And if we have to, we'll even resort to **ecoterrorism**."

Sio Bibble gasped, first in shock and then in confusion. "**Ecoterrorism**? What's that?" he asked, befuddlement clear on his face.

"I really have no idea, but my public relations agent advised me to say it, come the opportune moment. Since I don't know when that opportune moment might be I'll just keep on saying it until he tells me otherwise. Besides, it does sound scary, doesn't it?" The viceroy seemed genuinely enthusiastic about this word.

Sio Bibble considered the Neimoidian for a moment. "Well, the bit about terrorism certainly does sound scary. I'm not so sure about the 'eco' part, though."

Now it was Gunray's turn to be offended and huff. "This is outrageous!" With an almost negligent and yet enraged flick of his wrist, he ordered the battle droids: "Take him away!"

As the armed droids led the elderly Governor away, he shouted defiantly: "You have no chance! The people of Naboo will not tolerate this invasion! Granted, we're kind of unable to actually do anything against you right now. But at least empty threats make me feel better, even though it does not take away the tight feeling in my chest and the inexplicable pain in my left arm…"

The Governor's voice faltered and he clutched the front of his elaborate robe just above his heart.

With another disdainful flick of his wrist, Gunray sent a medical droid after the man. After all, he didn't really want to let the Governor die. He was not cruel when he could actually see the results of his decisions, though he had no problem with ordering his droids to march against an army if he didn't have to watch the battle. Qui-Gon's assessment of Neimoidian courage had not been all that far beside the mark, after all.

The viceroy sighed. He hadn't wanted his earlier remark about the human's failing health to turn into a prophecy. Unfortunately, invasions of the kind the Neimoidians were currently flinging at Naboo was often the **bellwether** of increased mortality among the elder population, as well as among the population in general.

Nute Gunray sighed at the Governor's lack of interest in his own health; then he turned to one of the important droids, which could easily be identified as one of the important ones by its yellow colour.

"My troops are in position to begin searching the swamps for these rumored underwater villages," it said in its expressionless mechanical voice. "They will not stay hidden for long. The **floccinaucinihilipilification** the people of Naboo harbour for these so-called Gungans is enormous and ubiquitous. According to the databanks I can access, they are even more brainless than my troops," the droid-in-command assessed the situation.

"So they are considered worthless? Why do we go looking for them, then?" the Neimoidian asked no one in particular. He was a bit miffed that the droid would use such weird words without stammering even once and wondered just why it would do such a thing.

Unsurprisingly, no one knew the answer to both the unspoken question and the one asked aloud. The only explanation anyone could think of was that the Gungans were simply an annoyance and a danger to the common mental health and so someone along the chain of command had decided to do something about them.

Nute Guntay chose not to revoke this order.

He also chose to officially rebuke the creator of the droid's linguistic program as soon as he got the chance.

oOo

"Wow, wizard!" Anakin exclaimed for the hundredth time. They were in the engine room and Anakin had just spotted the hyperdrive. "That looks just like the hyperdrive in Watto's backyard. I used to polish it when I wasn't busy cleaning fans. Oh, by the way, I think you have quite the fan club, too. I bet you didn't know that! I've met a lot of them, back in Watto's shop. It was on the "Star Wars" tour, on which locals guided tourists around Tatooine, showing them all the important places, like the Lars' moisture farm, a small house somewhere in the Jundland wastes that apparently belongs to someone called Ben and of course the pod racetrack and Watto's shop. That was their last stop before lunch, and lots of them were covered in dust and sand by then. And I cleaned them for a small fee," Anakin happily prattled on.

Obi-Wan admitted with a somewhat embarrassed laugh: "I don't think I would have to leave this ship to find a fan club. I'm rather afraid that by one way or another, I have acquired a rather ardent um… fellowship of my own which mainly consists of the assorted handmaidens." He shrugged. "I haven't found a way to get rid of them yet, though switching the braid to the other side of my head seemed to work surprisingly well."

Anakin stretched out his hand and tugged at the braid dangling at the side of Obi-Wan's head.

"Is this your own hair?" he asked.

"Ow!" Obi-Wan complained. "Yes, that is my own hair, so I'd be really grateful if you didn't do that anymore."

"Oh, sorry," Anakin said, sounding more intrigued than remorseful. "What's it for, anyway?"

"It's a symbol for my apprenticeship," Obi-Wan patiently explained.

Before he could further elaborate, though, Anakin interrupted him: "Wow, you got your own ship? Can I get one, too? Why would you need a braid as a symbol for that?"

"It's not a real spaceship, not the way you imagine," Obi-Wan informed him with laughter in his voice. "That means I'm an apprentice, a Padawan learner."

Anakin remained silent, but his face clearly spelled: "What kind of stupid useless ship is that? I bet you can't even fly with it."

oOo

After spending the whole afternoon in the engine room, Anakin was exhausted. He had asked Obi-Wan all the questions he could think of and then a few more, and he had gotten more answers than he could possibly cope with, let alone understand.

"Can we-" Anakin yawned widely. "Can we go and have some dinner? I'm famished!"

"Of course we can," Obi-Wan promised. "And I think Master Qui-Gon should be finished by now, so how about we meet him for dinner?" he suggested.

Anakin replied with a shrill "Yippie!" He was obviously very fond of Qui-Gon, whom he had secretly dubbed his "latest daddy".

They found the Jedi Master in his room, sitting on his bunk (due to the lack of other furniture fit for sitting on) and combing his hair so that it shone silkily. His deep voice could be heard humming contentedly and he seemed relaxed and generally in a good mood now that his hair (including the facial one) was back to its natural glossy luster.

When Obi-Wan audibly cleared his throat to catch Qui-Gon's attention, his Master looked up at his current and his future Padawan standing in the door.

"So what have you two been up to?" he asked with a cheerful twinkle in his eyes. A whole afternoon without anyone to interrupt his well-earned recreational time was just what he had needed. He had spent it washing his hair at least twice, applying three different conditioners which he had "borrowed" from Padmé, Sabé and Gertrudé and meditating on every aspect of the Living Force he could think of as well as on his most favourite mottos and ways to finally convince the Council to include them in the Jedi Code.

Now he was ready to face an evening with a hyperactive boy who could babble and ask questions non-stop, seemingly without needing to breath, and his apprentice, who probably didn't want to hear about his strategies to convince the Council of the existence of the proverbial bigger fish. He was quite the **inveterate** maverick Master when it came to pestering them with irrelevant superfluities to add to the Code.

Anakin didn't need any more prompting than Qui-Gon's rather unanimously phrased question to relate an enthusiastic account of this afternoon's events which effectively bridged the time they needed to walk from their room to the eatery.

"… and then I dismantled the shield generator-" "WHAT?" Qui-Gon interjected – "yes, that, to look what's inside, but don't worry, we put it back together. Well, mostly, I pulled it apart and Obi-Wan put it back together, but it's back in good working order now."

Anakin finished his tale and looked up expectantly at Qui-Gon, who distractedly ruffled his hair.

"I see, so you've had a busy afternoon. Now let's get you something to eat and then it's time for little Padawans to go to bed." Qui-Gon merrily said.

That remark elicited an instant protest from Obi-Wan. "Though I might not be as freakishly tall as you, oh gigantic Master of mine, the times that I could be described as 'little' are long past, as are the times when you could send me off to bed at nine o'clock in the evening. And besides, aren't you the one who usually tells me to focus on the here and now and that possibilities are distractions until they happen, or must I really remind you that Anakin is not a Padawan yet? No offence, Anakin."

Qui-Gon completely failed to take the hint, though he couldn't help but notice the strange mixture of mischief, nostalgia and sadness in Obi-Wan's eyes. He really could be quite dense sometimes when it came to anyone in his charge.

Anakin didn't take offence. After all, Obi-Wan had said "yet".

oOo

Some time later, they all sat down around a table in the dining hall.

Anakin took a look at the food for dinner. He helped himself to a generous serving of anything in his reach and asked Qui-Gon for the things that were in the back where he couldn't get them. He was curious about all the food they served on this ship. His mother had certainly not been a bad cook, but she used to prepare mostly grey gruel because she said that this was the only meal that matched the colour of their walls.

So now he was fascinated by all the green and yellow and red and pink and altogether colourful rations, and if Obi-Wan could be believed (which Anakin highly doubted because he couldn't imagine anything tastier than this artificial egg powder stuff that had to be stirred in water) even the food in the Jedi refectory was better, and according to Qui-Gon that was still nothing compared to Obi-Wan's cooking skills, but of course the Padawan immediately denied that vigorously and instead praised his Master's culinary expertise.

Anakin thought this highly unlikely because if you learned one thing on Tatooine, then it was that men were either dirty and scruffy and sexist and callous and inveterate criminals or moisture farmers, but no matter whether they belonged or the former or the latter, they definitely could _not_ cook.

As his mouth was stuffed with food, though, he didn't object and elaborate on his preconceptions.

When he was about to shovel a massive amount of the green stuff into his still half-full mouth, Obi-Wan cautioned him: "Careful, that's fairly **piquant**."

Qui-Gon thought that when it came to understatements, his Padawan was as prone to exaggerated use as with stating the obvious.

"I know," Anakin munched absently before popping a whole spoonful of it into his mouth. He had never been good at identifying sarcasm or understatements.

Only two seconds later, he ran around the table practically breathing fire. "IT'S HOT!" he screamed. "HOT! HOT! HOT! HOT! HOT!"

He raced around the room screaming at the top of his voice until Obi-Wan caught him, pressed a glass of blue milk into his hand and told him to "drink this".

Anakin drank and after he had **quaffed** down half the glass, he felt the burning in his throat subside.

Anakin crossed his arms and glared accusingly up at the two Jedi. "Why didn't you warn me? It's hot! And I don't mean hot hot, I mean spicy hot. It burns in my **weasand**." He tapped his foot cantankerously, waiting for an answer.

"But I did warn you," Obi-Wan objected. "I told you it was hot. That's Wasabi, it's made from Japanese horse radish," he added, rather unnecessarily, as Qui-Gon thought.

"No you didn't," Anakin insisted. "You used one of these strange words nobody understands."

"Says the boy who uses words like **weasand** instead of throat. Still, I'm sorry," Obi-Wan apologized. "I know I sometimes tend to use unnecessarily complicated words, but I didn't think it was that bad."

Qui-Gon and Anakin shared an exasperated glance before they turned to the Padawan and simultaneously stated: "It is that bad."

Since the expression on Obi-Wan's face was one of puzzlement and he seemed a bit taken aback by this revelation, Qui-Gon decided to help him recognize his problem.

"Padawan," he sombrely said, "what is a **galactophagist**?"

The apprentice looked even more bewildered, but he dutifully explained: "The second part of the word has its origins in the Greek word 'phagein' which roughly translates as 'to eat' or 'to eat up'. It is hardly ever used any more. The only example that comes to mind is in the word 'macrophage' which is a large cell found in the blood and tissue. They are a part of the innate immune system and their job is to remove pathogens and infected cells by enclosing and digesting them. This process looks like the macrophage eats them, hence the name."

Obi-Wan paused for a moment to gauge Qui-Gon's and Anakin's reaction. Anakin's face was completely blank, though that was presumably due to his complete and utter non-comprehension, and Qui-Gon sported an unreadable mask instead of his face. Hesitantly and not sure whether his audience was still following his explanations, he continued: "The first part could either be derived from 'galaxy' or 'galactose', which is a kind of sugar that may be found in milk, for example, but also bound to glycosylated proteins. So you get to choose between something which eats up galaxies and something which digests galactose, though the latter seems much more likely. It's infinitely easier to ingest a small molecule than a whole galaxy, after all," Obi-Wan finally finished. "So since Anakin has just drunk a whole glass of milk, it could be said that even he is a **galactophagist**."

Qui-Gon snapped Anakin out of the stupor he had drifted off to during Obi-Wan's little speech. "See what I mean?" he asked. "You completely managed to hypnotize poor Anakin here just by talking."

Anakin was still gaping open-mouthed at the Padawan. "**Antidesestablishmentarianism**," he suddenly said.

Now it was Qui-Gon's and Obi-Wan's turn to gape.

"What was that?" Qui-Gon asked, while Obi-Wan wondered just where a small slave boy might have picked up such a strange word.

"**Antidesestablishmentarianism**," Anakin repeated. "I've always wondered what it means. I picked it up one day in the cantina… I think. Can you explain it to me?"

Qui-Gon had to stifle a groan as Obi-Wan set out to analyze this new word for him.

oOo

Anakin snuggled tightly into the comfortably warm robe Obi-Wan had given him in lieu of a blanket. The two Jedi had just left him in his not-quite-a-bed after getting him settled in this not-quite-a-bedroom and wishing him a good night. Anakin had a lot to think about.

Jar Jar was already slumped in a chair, snoring softly. The Gungan had come in earlier during their discussion and had immediately knocked out by all the complicated words darting through the room. He had been squarely hit by the **'Zeigarnik**-effect' Qui-Gon had heatedly discussed with his Padawan and that had completely overloaded Jar Jar's flimsy nervous system.

Anakin's mind had also been grazed by the word, but he had managed to defeat it by understanding that it described the phenomenon that people tend to remember unfinished rather than completed stories, and that this was precisely the reason why every single soap-opera always gets adjourned just when the tension is about to peak.

He leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. It had been a really interesting afternoon, and so far he didn't regret leaving Tatooine at all.

When Anakin heard the soft whirring of the elevator, his eyes snapped open again. He didn't know how but he knew that it was Padmé in that elevator. He really liked her. He was only nine years old, which was an age when normal boys still considered girls 'yucky' or 'disgusting' and yet…

Anakin let his gaze wander around the room. He was looking for something with which he could gain Padmé's attention. Maybe if he looked like he needed something? But what could he need that would be immediately obvious to anyone looking at him? A nice hot cup of milk with honey would be a good excuse to talk to Padmé, but Anakin didn't think that he could make the lack of warm milk visible on his face.

_Hmmmm… I already have a bed, I already have a pillow and Qui-Gon's robe for a blanket… but that can be changed easily!_

Anakin quickly stuffed the wide robe behind the couch. He didn't want Padmé to think he was well looked after or he feared that she wouldn't take pity on him and come to take care of him.

Padmé had been really nice to him so far. Of course Qui-Gon and Jar Jar and R2-D2 and Obi-Wan had been kind, too, but that was not the same because they were neither as hot nor as female as Padmé.

Anakin thought of the cheap souvenir one of the fans had given him as a tip one day. It was merchandise from a movie called 'Planet Battle' or something like that. The fan had told him that in the movie, it was a present from a young boy to his one true love, whom he indirectly killed when he was an adult in a later episode. Anakin had always thought this was a rather stupid thing to do, but since he had no other use for the pendant, maybe if he gave it to Padmé, he could gain her affection and her consent to his indirectly killing her when he was an adult in a later episode, because rumour has it that that's what husbands enjoy doing to their wives, though he had a slight suspicion that he had gotten that wrong somehow and still considered it a stupid idea.

Anakin's ruminations were effectively terminated by Padmé, as were all his thoughts. Anakin could only stare at her, fascinated by the way her gown seemed to be red and orange and yellow all at once, and no matter how much Anakin strained his eyes, he couldn't find the transition between the different colours and that was simply too much for his brain which was inexperienced in all matters concerning fashion. So he continued to stare at Padmé as she entered the room and walked over to the comm. station, struggling and failing to figure out her gown.

Padmé pressed a few random buttons. Sabé had informed her that someone had called during her absence, and now she hoped to find a message from Bail on the answering machine. She really missed the thirty-three calls a day she usually made to Alderaan.

She was sorely disappointed, though, when after a loud _beeeep_ she spotted the transparent blue hologram of Sio Bibble, Naboo's governor, instead of the handsome features of the Alderaanian Price. "You have one new message," a tinny voice announced.

"Hello?" the holographic image of the nervous politician whispered urgently. "Anyone there? If anyone hears this, would you please answer the call? Oh, I hate these answering machines! Anyway, I called because the Neimoidians forced me so they can pinpoint your location in case you answer."

Padmé impatiently fast-forwarded to the important bits. She was familiar enough with her governor's lengthy way of talking to know that he wouldn't arrive there for at least five minutes.

After some time she pressed the play-button again and listened to the remainder of the message: "They found the royal wardrobe. It's a disaster! These slimy Neimoidians are ravaging all of your clothes!"

A loud gasp of outrage escaped Padmé's lips. Her clothes! Why did it have to be her clothes?

The governor continued remorselessly: "They are actually trying them on. They completely stretched that lovely pink one to a shape that would fit one of their kind, but never a gorgeous young woman as your Highness! The purple dress you wore for the party on Alderaan has a tear, and they stepped on the hem of the silvery one you got for your birthday, completely ruining it. And you don't even want to know what they did to your favourite white robe that matches Your Highness' complexion so well. And not only that! They also ruin any shoes and stilettos and pumps and delicate sandals they can find! You won't have a matching pair of shoes for any dresses that might survive this tragedy. It's horrible to watch them kill all these pretty dresses. The death toll is catastrophic. We must bow to their wishes. You must contact me!" he insisted.

Padmé was devastated. All her favourite clothes! She had continually worked up her temper during Sio Bibble's report and now felt ready to stomp her foot until it grew numb and rage against anyone her anger-filled brain could think of when she spotted Anakin sitting in a corner, staring at her.

She reigned in her temper. She didn't want to scare the poor boy with one of her famous tantrums which would invariably end in someone losing his or her head. That's how they frequently ended because at the height of her anger she always screamed to behead whoever was unfortunate enough to attract her attention, and she was afraid that in attracting her attention, no-one could outdo Obi-Wan. And separating that handsome head from the equally handsome rest of the Padawan's body was something she definitely wanted to avoid.

Padmé took another look at Anakin. How he sat there huddled in the corner, staring at her with wide, sad eyes and fiddling with something roused Padmé's emerging maternal instincts.

"You all right?" she asked, her voice touched with concern for the poor boy. She felt it was partly her fault that the boy was now homeless. Then she remembered that Qui-Gon had chosen their path and she had been so busy following that she hadn't managed to do much besides trying to keep up with the Jedi Master.

"It's very cold," Anakin quietly said. He did his best to appear as pathetic as possible because he wanted Padmé to take care of him.

The Queen aka handmaiden grabbed a red blanked and spread it over Anakin.

"You come from a warm planet, Ani," she said as if that weren't obvious from their previous stay on Tatooine. "A little too warm for my taste. Space is cold because of all that vacuum and stuff," she informed him as she tightly tucked the blanked around Anakin to keep him warm.

"You seem sad," Anakin observed, looking extremely sad himself.

"I am… erm, I mean, the Queen is worried. Her people are suffering, dying. And all my favourite clothes are being destroyed by the Trade Federation. She must convince the Senate to intervene or… I'm not sure what will happen. I won't ever be able to wear my favourite frilly dress again, and the pink one with the laces is probably all but soiled beyond repair."

Padmé sighed dolefully. She seemed very miserable at the prospect of losing her wardrobe, so much so in fact that Anakin thought that he had gotten the better bargain because he was not nearly as unhappy as Padmé was. From that observation, Anakin concluded that clothes must really be something wonderful and Padmé must love them more than her mother since their loss seemed to affect her more than Anakin was affected by the loss of _his_ mother.

Now seemed to be the perfect time to cheer Padmé up with the little gift he wanted to give her.

"I made this for you so you'd remember me," Anakin said as he pressed the little trinket in Padmé's hand. Of course he had not made it himself, but he was not about to tell Padmé that. He thought it sounded rather lame to give her something that looked so cheap if he couldn't claim to have made it himself. "I carved it out of a japor snippet. I'll bring you good fortune. It's also a love charm so you'll marry me once we're of legal age. Oh no, please tell me I didn't say that out loud," Anakin's voice trailed off in a mortified whisper.

Padmé gave Anakin a smile that made his heart melt instantly. "It's… um, beautiful," she softly said, grateful that her diplomatic training had kicked in so quickly. The trinket looked rather less dazzling than the jewellery she usually wore, but when she looked into Anakin's huge puppy-eyed stare she accepted it and put it around her neck.

_Awww, that is sooo sweet of you,_ Padmé thought.

"But I don't need this to remember you by. I'm not that old yet, and my memory is generally in a good condition. I usually remember people I've met, and I spent the last four days in your company, so it is rather improbable that I should forget you in the near future. Still, I shall wear this because you are such a little sweetie," she finished with another of her heart-stopping smiles.

"Many things will change when we reach the capital, Ani, but my caring for you will remain."

Anakin was elated by these last few words. Padmé cared for him! It was not the confession of love Anakin had hoped for and so he couldn't answer with the 'I love you, too' that he wanted to say. So he said instead: "I care for you, too, only I-"

Before Anakin could complete his sentence about how he cared for Padmé more than just a friend, she finished it for him: "You miss your mother."

Glad that he hadn't spilled his secret adoration for the young woman yet again, Anakin gave a tiny nod. Besides, he truly did miss his mother.

Soon after, Padmé wished Anakin goodnight and left, presumably to find Obi-Wan. She had that scary and resolute glint in her eyes as she headed for the door that Anakin had learned to associate with Padmé thinking of the Padawan. Anakin was glad that she didn't have that expression on her face when she thought of him. He didn't know what it was, but it truly scared him. He really wouldn't want to switch places with Obi-Wan right now.

Anakin settled back into the blanket Padmé had given him. After about five minutes of tossing and turning, though, he discarded the blanket and retrieved the robe from under the sleepcouch. Snuggling into it, he was asleep only seconds later even though he had thought that he was much too excited after Padmé's short visit to sleep ever again.

oOo

Padmé was getting changed into her royal attire. It was about time that she resumed her duty as Queen. Besides, the Jedi could not refuse a summons if it was issued with the Queen's authority. While she was getting ready, she sent for Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan, officially to discuss the outcome of the mission, but in truth she had her very own motives.

When she was finally done with all the clothes and the thick layer of make-up that was mandatory for the role of the Queen, she entered the room that served as makeshift throne room. The Jedi were already waiting for her, standing in a corner of the room, talking softly. When she entered, they immediately turned around and bowed politely. She acknowledged them with a rather – in her opinion - regal inclination of her head.

She scuttled towards the throne with tiny steps – anything else was not possible with the cumbersome dress she was wearing.

Padmé sat down stiffly and cleared her throat.

"Master Jedi, what are your plans once we arrive on Coruscant? How will we proceed?"

With another slight bow, Qui-Gon informed her that he didn't have any plans because he hadn't given much thought to the matter. He was too much preoccupied with living in the here and now. So the Queen fixed her questioning (and just the tiniest bit longing) gaze on the Padawan. Obi-Wan informed her that they would meet with the Supreme Chancellor Finis Valorum and Naboo's representative in the senate, Senator Palpatine. Obi-Wan also told her that the Jedi could not help her with the politicians and that, being a politician herself, she would have to deal with them only with the help of her creepy Senator.

The Queen didn't take this news well.

"You cannot be serious. Naboo needs all the help it can get. The situation is grievous."

For some inexplicable reason, Obi-Wan felt like it was his duty to deal with anything grievous.

"We will of course help you in any way we can to save the people of Naboo, but we cannot exceed our mandate," Obi-Wan said. "I'm sorry that we can't offer you further help without the consent of the Jedi Council."

The Padawan seemed truly regretful that he couldn't do more, but Padmé didn't appear appeased at all.

"How can you be so uncaring!" the Queen said in her emotionless and flat voice, which gave a strange atmosphere to her accusation. "Naboo is in great peril, my people are suffering and dying and my wardrobe is getting defiled. Please help my people! Please save my **Naboobies**!"

Obi-Wan almost choked as the Queen and the entire army of handmaidens that was positioned behind her gave him a staggeringly **licentious** leer that looked even more shocking on their barely adolescent faces. Instantly, the **affable** and sympathetic expression was wiped from the Padawan's face and replaced by one of pure shock. For a moment his jaw threatened to drop before Obi-Wan's stunned brain took hold of it again. He gulped down a confused response to the brazen invitation and took an involuntary step back.

Obi-Wan sent his Master a helpless look that begged for some help, but Qui-Gon was completely oblivious to the shameless flirting going on right in front of him.

Obi-Wan was immensely relieved when Qui-Gon took a step forward, but that feeling was short-lived as his Master reprieved him instead of helping him: "Of course we will do anything to help you and your people, your Highness," Qui-Gon reassured her. "And I'm sure my Padawan will take good care of your **Naboobies** once the Council has heard of your circumstances and approved of the further course of action."

Padmé`s face showed utter bliss at Qui-Gon's words, Obi-Wan's face showed utter horror. The horror-struck Padawan alternately blanched a unhealthy white and blushed a furious scarlet as if he couldn't decide whether he was appalled at the notion of 'taking good care' of the **'Naboobies'** of someone who was ten years younger than him and could scarcely be called a teenager at that or more embarrassed at the fact that his Master so blatantly misunderstood the insinuations and practically gave the girls permission to keep up their barefaced persecution of the dumbstruck Padawan.

Obi-Wan decided to cast politeness and diplomacy to the winds and as soon as he had found his voice again he quickly excused himself before the Queen or one of her handmaidens could say another word. He practically fled from the throne room, followed by Qui-Gon, who was confused as to the reason for his Padawan's hasty escape. He had never seen Obi-Wan run away from anything. Usually his apprentice faced even the most hostile and frightening situations with unflappable calm and not a trace of dread, and the only thing that got to him were these ominous bad feelings of his. So why was he running away from a bunch of perfectly ordinary girls?

When the Jedi Master asked as much, Obi-Wan first sat down only to immediately stand up again and pace up and down the hallway. He was clearly upset, and he couldn't quite hide his trembling hands.

"Master-" Obi-Wan began, but he took a few calming breaths before trying again: "Master, the Queen asked me to save her **Naboobies**!"

"Which is a perfectly understandable thing to ask, Padawan," Qui-Gon sternly admonished. "The Queen is worried for the welfare of her people, and we really shouldn't deny her the help she asks from us. I know you as a generally compassionate and caring person, Obi-Wan, although I know that people who don't know you as well as I do don't see it as clearly. So why are you so horrified by the prospect of helping the people of Naboo?" Qui-Gon was genuinely puzzled by his Padawan's reaction.

But the flustered apprentice could only repeat, more forcefully this time: "The _Queen_ asked me to _save_ her _**Naboobies**_!" He seemed genuinely distressed by his Master's lack of understanding.

When Qui-Gon's expression told Obi-Wan that his Master hadn't understood what the young man was too embarrassed to say out loud, he mumbled a quiet excuse and quickly left for the cockpit, his haven of safety from the predatory girls. He was even willing to sleep in the cockpit or if need be not sleep at all if he could just avoid another of these awkward encounters.

Obi-Wan was thankful that they would arrive on Coruscant in just under 14 hours, and true to his intentions he spent the remaining time in the cockpit. As they approached the planet-wide city (or depending on your point of view the city-wide planet) Anakin joined him in the cockpit.

"Good morning, everyone!" the boy cheerily greeted the pilots and Obi-Wan.

"Good morning!" came the reply from every corner of the cockpit.

As Anakin peered out the front window, he was rendered speechless by the spectacular view of a whole planet ablaze in artificial lighting and covered in tall buildings. The boy, who had so far only seen the shabby and squatting buildings of Tatooine, was full of wonder for the incredible sight that unfolded before him.

An awed whisper of "Wizard!" could be heard from the boy who was suspiciously quiet otherwise.

Ric Olié, the pilot on duty, elaborated the sight before them. "Coruscant. The entire planet is one big city. There's Chancellor Valorum's shuttle. And look over there, Senator Palpatine is waiting for us," he commented as they circled around the landing platform.

Somewhere off to the side, a voice that sounded suspiciously like Obi-Wan's mumbled an unfavourable remark about the less admirable traits of politicians.

And really, Anakin could spot several people who looked quite important with their stiff robes and formal attire.

In the middle of the platform stood a lone man whose robe looked just as stiff and formal as the other ones, but he seemed to be less aloof than the rest of the politicians because he was heatedly talking to someone on his comm.

Their ship touched down on the landing pad and the Jedi, closely followed by Anakin, Jar Jar, Captain Panaka, the Queen and the inevitable handmaidens got off the space shuttle and walked towards the delegation of politicians.

The Chancellor and his entourage were awaiting the arrival of Queen Amidala, Senator Palpatine was still on the comm, talking animatedly with his assistant.

"Where is my order of Chinese food? I expressly told the restaurant to deliver it to this particular lading platform I'm standing on and I expected them two minutes ago. Where are they? Would you please take care of that?"

"Of course, Senator," the aide sighed. This was not what she had thought her job would entail. This was not what she had studied politics for. "What exactly did you order, sir?" The assistant just hoped that the old fool could at least remember what he wanted.

"Yes," Palpatine said much to her relieve, "I wanted order 66 today. What was that again?" he asked his aide who had the menu in front of her.

"That's fried Che-Dai served with steamed vegetables and liquefied rice, sir," the assistant informed him, feeling more than a bit bored with her job and discontent with her life in general. She really should get a new job, one where she wouldn't have to do such tedious tasks like running after the Senator's lunch.

Palpatine seemed extremely pleased. "Ah, perfect. Fried Jedi is my favourite."

The aide sighed. "It's fried Che-Dai, not Jedi," she repeated, wondering just what her boss was thinking.

"Yes, I want that," By now, Palpatine seemed indignant and sharply told his assistant to fix the problem with his lunch immediately. "Execute Order 66 immediately," he heatedly instructed his stressed-out assistant before cutting off the transmission.

As the Jedi approached the waiting politicians, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan were communicating through the bond.

_Master, I've got that bad feeling again. See that Senator there, the one with the slightly wavy greying hair and the hooked nose? He gives me the creeps. _After a short pause, Obi-Wan added: _What's wrong with me? That's more than just my usual dislike of politicians._

_I don't sense anything,_ was Qui-Gon's answer, though he had already shown at the beginning that that didn't have to mean anything.

Obi-Wan was really unsettled by this Senator. For once, he couldn't help but fervently wish for one of Qui-Gon's famous bigger fish to devour this particular politician even more than the average politician, be it a literal bigger fish that swallowed the Senator during his next fishing holiday on Naboo or a metaphorical bigger fish in the shape of a nasty scandal or another politician who replaced him in his position. Even at the danger of being repetitive, Obi-Wan had a very bad feeling about this.

As they drew near, Obi-Wan caught the last bit of Palpatine's comm call.

"Execute order 66 immediately."

Suddenly, Obi-Wan got the feeling that he should leave.

Now.

Before he found the time to think about the sudden sense of betrayal from someone he trusted and who that someone was because he was certain he didn't know anyone called Cody and why he felt like he should be falling down from a great height, the strange feeling had already made him jump right off the landing platform in a mighty leap. For a second he wondered how Boga was doing and whether she had survived the explosion before he remembered that he didn't know anyone called Boga, either. Well, at least he had his lightsaber back… but it had never been gone as far as he could remember, so he corrected himself and was glad that he still had it.

A few meters further down, though, he finally started to doubt his current sanity. What was he doing jumping off the landing pad? Immediately, he started looking around for a way to stop his fall (strangely enough, he had expected a deep pool of water to do that for him) and then to get back up there as fast as possible.

On the landing platform, everyone stared in open-mouthed astonishment at the place where Obi-Wan had just vanished from.

Peering over the edge and watching the Padawan disappear in Coruscant's gloomy lower levels, Anakin whispered: "Did you see what I just saw? I mean, did Obi-Wan really just jump off the platform?"

Qui-Gon stood next to him, a frown on his face, his arms crossed and shook his head disapprovingly. "I hate it when he does that," he stated with just a tiny bit of exasperation.

Padmé and her entourage stood there, shell-shocked, unable to say anything or even form a coherent thought. The Chancellor didn't seem to fare much better.

Only Senator Palpatine seemed not only unperturbed but essentially amused and delighted by this unexpected turn of events.

"Was that your Padawan?" he walked up to stand next to Qui-Gon and look where Obi-Wan had disappeared. "Shame, really. I didn't know Jedi were suicidal," he added with a jovial smirk.

Palpatine had no idea just how he had done that, but he was pretty sure that the premature death of this particular Jedi would spare him lots of trouble in the future. The conceited Sith Lord in him whispered that his dark aura had probably scared the poor pathetic apprentice to death. Not that he cared, though. From what he had seen during the half-second his attention had been on the Padawan, Palpatine had already deduced that this Jedi was useless to him. With the way his Force-signature practically _flaunted_ that much of the sickening goodness and integrity and _light_, turning him to the Dark Side was probably not worth the trouble, never mind that the more rational part of his mind whispered that he'd have a really tough time of it with the young Jedi if he tried.

After about a minute of hushed perplexity, animated discussions broke out all over the platform. The only thing that could stop the loud chattering was the sudden and (by some) unexpected reappearance of Obi-Wan. He jumped from a speeder which was rushing by.

The stares that greeted him were for the most part disbelieving, but his Master fixed him with a stern glare.

"Padawan, that was uncalled for."

"I'm sorry, Master," Obi-Wan apologized. Since he couldn't explain his strange behaviour himself, he didn't even try to explain it to anyone else. Obi-Wan decided to meditate on it later, and maybe talk to Master Yoda about it.

They returned to business without further ado. The Jedi bowed deeply to the Chancellor, Anakin and Jar Jar imitated them a second later. After the formal greeting, they stepped aside to let Queen Amidala through.

"It is a great gift to see you live, Your Majesty," Palpatine smoothly greeted her. "The same isn't true for you, though," he mumbled under his breath towards the Jedi.

Then he continued as if nothing has happened, which was one of the talents vital for any politician. "With the communications breakdown, we've been very concerned. I'm anxious to hear you report on the situation."

Qui-Gon let go of Anakin's shoulders. He had tried to take away the boy's unease at the assembled VIPs, but he couldn't let this go uncommented. "Don't centre on your anxieties, Senator. You must keep your focus on the here and now, where it belongs."

An embarrassed hush settled over the delegation of politicians, and only Palpatine seemed unaffected by the awkwardness of the situation.

"May I present Supreme Chancellor Valorum," he introduced the Chancellor who hadn't said a single word so far.

"Welcome, Your Highness. It's an honour to finally meet you in person," he greeted the Queen.

"Thank you, Supreme Chancellor," Sabé answered. Padmé was standing next to her, and instead of paying attention she traded smiles with Anakin.

Valorum felt a bit stupid. Here he was, the Supreme Chancellor, the most powerful politician in the Republic, and the pleasantries he politely offered to the Queen was brushed away with a simple 'Thank you' and not with the appropriate polite formalities.

The greetings and unexpected shocks finally over, the Chancellor, the Senator and the Queen started walking towards the Chancellor's shuttle.

"I must relay to you how distressed everyone is over the current situation," Valorum continued. "I've called for a special session of the senate to hear your position."

"I'm grateful for your concern, Chancellor," the Queen droned in her monotonous queenly voice. Then she turned around and simply let him stand there while Palpatine walked off with her.

"There is a question of procedure, but I'm confident we can overcome it," Palpatine informed Sabé.

Anakin was following Padmé, while he let his gaze wander. He was too fascinated by all these new and interesting surroundings to notice that the Jedi were not coming along.

"I must speak with the Jedi Council immediately," Qui-Gon told Valorum. "The situation has become much more complicated."

The Chancellor turned around to Obi-Wan. Granted, the Padawan had just jumped of the platform, and yet he seemed more reasonable than the Master.

"Why did he tell _me_ that?" he asked in a whisper.

"I, erm…" The Padawan seemed embarrassed. "I'm afraid he doesn't have any money and wants you to pay for the taxi."

Qui-Gon, on the other hand, was already somewhere else with his thoughts. When Padmé turned around to tell Anakin to come along, he didn't have to be told twice. He quickly looked for Qui-Gon's silent approval and then got into the open transport that was waiting for them, never mind that with all the heavy traffic and the thick layer of smog on Coruscant, it would have probably been much more comfortable in a closed vehicle.

To remind everyone that he was still there and as annoying as ever, Jar Jar opened his mouth and out came: "Da Queen's a bein grossly nice, mesa tinks." And because that wasn't enough, he added to Anakin's horror: "Pitty hot."

Anakin shuddered. Now he would be traumatized for the rest of his life. Jar Jar found the Queen hot! Ugh!

In the backseat, Sabé shuddered as well. That was it. If that Gungan found her hot, she never ever wanted to be dressed as the Queen again! She made up her mind to resign from active dressing-as-the-Queen-duty once there was a quiet moment in which to discuss this with Padmé.

oOo

Edited 22nd April, 2010

Edited 4th May, 2010 (Happy unofficial Star Wars Day – May the Fourth be with you!)

Edited 11th February, 2011


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

**Disclaimer:** I think if I were George Lucas, I think I would have noticed by now, and besides, I don't think my long hair and my boobs would look all that great on him, anyway.

oOo

Anakin was bored. For the last few days, he had always been busy doing something exciting: racing virtual pods, hanging around with Qui-Gon, watching the awesome fight between Qui-Gon and the Sith, as he had learned they were called. He had asked Obi-Wan all the questions he could think of, spied on the handmaidens, unabashedly flirted with Padmé during political meetings with the Supreme Chancellor, watched a Jedi jump down from a platform at least two and a half kilometres above the ground and return completely unscathed (though feeling immensely stupid and maybe just a little out of breath) and much more. And now, the only one who was present to alleviate his boredom was Jar Jar, though that might turn out to be even worse than having no one, Anakin suspected.

So far, Jar Jar hadn't done anything funny or entertaining or even annoying, but that was only because he hadn't done anything at all. He only sat there and stared at the red wall opposite him. For Anakin, that made him about as interesting as the red wall he, too, had been staring at for the last half an hour, though the boy was not entirely sure about that: red could be a very fascinating colour to stare at.

Padmé had been nowhere in sight since she had gone to help the Queen exchange one terribly complicated dress for another, equally terribly complicated one, though Anakin failed to see how this dress was better suited to the occasion than the last one. He found them both hideous, anyway. For him, they held nothing of the fascination of Padmé's red and orange and yellow one. Though Anakin had studied it for hours, he still hadn't been able to figure just how the soft and shimmering fabric could be so orange at the top and such a pale yellow at the hem seemingly without changing colours at all. Every piece of cloth Anakin had seen so far in his life had either been a drab beige, tan, muted greyish-white or simply brown. But despite Anakin's readily apparent ignorance, something still seemed to tell him that the Queen's outfits were ghastly. It was probably this Force-thing Qui-Gon was always going on about. If it had a sense of humour, as Obi-Wan occasionally claimed (though sometimes he didn't seem all too pleased about that because the Padawan had admitted that he felt like the receiving part of its sarcastic jokes all too often for his taste), why shouldn't it have an opinion on fashion, too?

As Captain Panaka strolled past them, both Anakin and Jar Jar perked up hopefully. Maybe something would happen after all, and they could do something more interesting than just sitting there waiting for the political talks to finish, like going on a cruise around Coruscant or running down the seemingly endless corridors of the Senate building. It had been pointed out to Anakin on their flight here, and the boy thought that with a mushroom that huge, there must be a hallway going all the way around. Such a hallway that would essentially be circular but because of its size probably only had a slight curve would be the ideal place to play 'Large Hadron Collider' in. If he and someone else, like preferably Padmé or maybe Obi-Wan or Qui-Gon or the Captain – hell, he would even accept Jar Jar – ran around the great convocation camber in huge circles, they could collide once they reached the necessary velocity and then see what happened. Maybe they could even create a black hole that would swallow up the senate! Then these stupid talks he was excluded from would end for good.

Unfortunately, though, Panaka just walked past Anakin and Jar Jar without sparing them a glance. He had much more pressing matters on his mind than childish games, and he frankly had no idea what a 'Large Hadron Collider' was, anyway. So he briskly strode past them and into the room where Queen Amidala (this time, it was actually the real one, for once) and Senator Palpatine (also the real one) were talking about the situation on Naboo. Both the Senator and the young Queen wore formal attire, and for once Amidala's robe looked less like a harlequin's costume and more like a traditional Japanese kimono, which she probably only wore because it was the only piece of clothing which could be worn with an obi without looking completely ridiculous. The Queen's usually elaborately **coiffed** hair was hidden beneath what looked like a half-finished self-knit tablecloth and an extra-large brush.

Palpatine's robe seemed to be made from an old carpet, because it was just as stiff and with the same awful pattern as some of the carpets Anakin had seen in the huge building they were in.

"There is no civility, only politics," stated the Senator. Then, he paused for a moment, looking unsure. "Or did I get that wrong? I am not all that familiar with the Jedi Code, I have to admit. It might also be that it says 'There is no passion, there is senility'. Yes, that was it. I'm positive that I got it right this time, though you might want to check with your Jedi bodyguards later on. But the circumstantial evidence points to my being right, because Master Yoda would then be the perfect example of a perfect Jedi."

Palpatine almost seemed to spit the last bit of the sentence. Queen Amidala's questions about the Jedi Code had been the last thing Palpatine had expected. Apparently, it had something to do with a good-looking apprentice who had tried to discourage further advances by claiming that Jedi were forbidden attachments, anyway. Palpatine had gleefully made sure that the Padawan would be pestered by lovelorn handmaidens and the occasional monarch in the future. Although that didn't further his plans in the slightest, he still immensely enjoyed being the cause for many awkward and embarrassing situations in the Jedi Padawan's near future, out of sheer spite and malice.

"The Republic is not what it once was. The Senate is full of greedy, squabbling delegates," the Senator said, though he didn't sound all that upset by it. "Myself included, of course, with the minor difference that I'm the greediest and most squabbling of them all, and with the major difference that I will succeed where they have failed and will fail. I know. I have seen it," Papatine mumbled under his breath, with a satisfied purr like a cat that had just caught not just a particularly fat mouse but a full-blown member of the **lagomorph** family, like a hare or a rabbit. "There is no interest in the common good."

Palpatine paced up and down a bit in front of the couch the Queen was sitting on. This was what he was best at: telling people the truth, but with such a clever twist that he was far from being truthful. Sure enough, most of his fellow Senators were only interested in filling their own pockets with as much wealth as they would hold and in becoming even more powerful than they already were. What he didn't say, though, was that their petty duplicity paled next to what Palpatine planned for the Republic.

With a distressed sigh that was entirely false, he finally stopped his pacing and turned to face Queen Amidala. It was almost too easy to manipulate this naïve girl into doing what he wanted her to do. Palpatine's sithly side would have wished for someone who offered at least a bit of a challenge to his intellect, but he took what he got. In any case, it was not as if he wouldn't be defied on his way to galactic dominion at all, so he didn't complain if things were a bit easier to handle than expected, at least for the moment.

With a completely fake look of sympathy on his face, the part-time Senator and full-time Sith continued his carefully fabricated version of the truth.

"I must be frank, Your Majesty. There is little chance the Senate will act on the invasion."

"Chancellor Valorum seems to think there is hope," Padmé countered in her royally droning voice.

"Well, he's wrong then!" Palpatine answered a bit too testily. Immediately, he noticed and rectified his mistake: "If I may say so, Your Majesty, the Chancellor, unlike me, has little real power, though that may be excused since, also unlike me, the Chancellor is not a Sith Lord. He is mired by baseless accusations of corruption that I spread for my convenience. I am… erm, I mean the bureaucrats are in charge now."

Fortunately for Palpatine and rather less fortunately for the rest of the galaxy, Padmé hadn't been listening properly to the Senator because she had been trading funny faces with Anakin through the glass door. At that point, Jar Jar finally noticed Anakin was pulling faces at the Queen. Even as a hapless Gungan, he knew that that was probably uncalled for and so took the boy by the hand and they walked off together.

"What options have we?" she asked because her primary source of entertainment was being led away by Jar Jar but still she rather thought about the next grimace she could show Anakin than about a solution to their problem.

That was just what Palpatine had been waiting for.

"Our best choice would be to push for the election of a stronger Supreme Chancellor, one who could control the bureaucrats and give us justice and who will finally destroy the Republic in a long and brutal war which only serves to kill as many Jedi as possible and then crown himself Emperor. Yes, that's the kind of Chancellor we need…" Palpatine's voice faded away to a dreamy whisper and the Senator looked like his thoughts were about thirteen years ahead in daydreams of the future.

After a short moment of being lost in his daydreams – if they were anything as innocuous as simple dreams – he returned to business.

"You could call for a vote of no confidence in Chancellor Valorum," he suggested, the eager gleam in his eyes barely hidden by his concerned façade.

"He has been our strongest supporter," Padmé pointed out disbelievingly. Here was the Chancellor, willing to help them and according to Palpatine the accusations of corruption were untrue, probably the closest thing to an actually honest politician they could get, and Palpatine wanted to replace him? Padmé couldn't quite put a finger on it, but something seemed just a bit _off_ about that plan and about the Senator.

"Our only other choice would be to submit a plea to the courts," Palpatine informed her.

"The courts take even longer to decide things than the Senate," Padmé said. If these courts were anything like her own court, they would even need ages just to decide which clothes to wear to the hearing. "Our people are dying, Senator, and my beloved wardrobe is being torn apart. We must do something quickly to stop the Federation," the young Queen insisted.

"To be realistic, Your Majesty-" Palpatine started to say.

"But I don't want to be realistic!" Padmé shouted, her juvenile temper finally getting the better of her. "I want to do something! I want to have my favourite clothes back so that I don't have to wear that terrible white one I'm wearing now any more. It looks hideous! And doesn't the thing on my head look just like a self-knitted tablecloth someone ripped apart and placed on my head? It's awful! I want to have the other white one back, the one with the many layers which I have particularly reserved for parades! It looks so much better on me. I can't just sit around here! I have to take some kind of action, even though it might be needlessly dangerous! I want to behead people!"

Palpatine was fascinated. This girl could be outright _vicious_ if someone threatened her clothes! But as much as he was pro-rage and anti-serenity, he had no use for an upset Queen right now. Rather, he needed a determined and tragic one who wouldn't start demanding people's heads in front of the whole Senate.

So he started again: "To be realistic, Your Majesty, I think we're going to have to accept Federation control for the time being."

He studied Padmé from under raised brows, anticipating another tantrum from the girl who had been so volatile just seconds before.

Instead, though, the Queen just coolly countered: "That is something I cannot do." With that, this discussion was settled for her and she briskly stood up, regally inclined her head by ways of a goodbye, left the Senator's chambers, which were much too red and black for her taste, anyway, and headed off to find Anakin and show him the amusingly contorted face she had thought of earlier.

oOo

Anakin stared through the transparent door. Inside, Palpatine and the Queen were still discussing their oh-so-important grown-up-things while he had to sit outside and wait and be bored. At least watching them and trying to guess what they were saying from reading their lips was slightly less boring than staring at the inert wall, even though it was red, just like almost everything else in Palpatine's residence. The Senator was quite fond of red, it seemed. The only thing that wasn't red was the cylindrical device the curious boy had found wedged behind one of the more unsightly pieces of art scattered along the corridor - for some reason it reminded him of a Jedi's lightsaber, but why would Palpatine have one of those when he wasn't even a Jedi. Even though Anakin knew that it was probably a bad idea to play with something that belonged to someone as important as the Senator, he was intrigued and just _had_ to push that little button there to the side.

Luckily, Anakin had angled the business end of the thing up and away from him, or else he would have clearly been stabbed by the crimson blade of what he assumed must be the most oversized laser bread knife in history.

Finally, this was getting interesting! Anakin was elated at the fascinating toy he had found.

"I am the mighty Qui-Gon Jinn," he declared, playing at being a Jedi and swinging the red blade around, "and I'm fighting that scary black guy because he almost ran over my best friend Anakin Skywalker!"

Enthusiastically waving the weapon around, Anakin almost decapitated Jar Jar before he managed to first literally disarm and then behead one of the statues of questionable beauty but incalculable value that were liberally distributed along the corridor.

Looking around sheepishly to see if someone beside the Gungan had noticed his little accident, he quickly put the bread knife back. It seemed only logical that oversized bread knifes also were extremely sharp-edged, especially since just about everything seemed to be overkill with politicians, be it clothes, apartments painted completely red or, apparently, bread knives.

So Anakin returned to staring at Palpatine and trying to read his lips.

His frown of concentration deepened as he quietly informed Jar Jar what was being said. "From what I could gather, the Senator just informed the Queen that it was his birthday a few days ago and that he plans to throw a big party in the evening. He invited the Queen and her entourage to come, too, and told her that there would be a giant cake the form of a huge spherical space station and lots of other food except eggplants because he doesn't like them and he even engaged a **dee-jay** because he likes some groovy music."

Anakin looked thrilled. "Do you think we can come to the party, too?" he asked Jar Jar, who only answered with a noncommittal shrug. "I hope so," Anakin said before turning back to his self-appointed task. "The Queen doesn't seem all too pleased with the idea of a party; she says she doesn't have the right kind of clothes with her. Oh pity, that means no party for us," he added disappointedly.

When he turned around again, Palpatine had his back to Anakin. Silently, the boy urged him to turn around again. He wanted to know more about the party.

_Come on; just turn around a bit more. I wanna see your face! Hey, Palpy-what's your face, turn around! Hey, Mister Senator-guy! What's your first name, anyway?_

As expected, the Senator didn't do him the favour of turning around - though unbeknownst to Anakin he had sensed the boy's thoughts quite clearly.

Anakin occupied himself for a few minutes with guessing the Senator's first name. Almost everyone else had a first name, like _Anakin_ Skywalker or _Qui-Gon_ Jinn, and then there were people who had even more than one first name, like _Padmé Amidala_ Naberrie. Anakin wondered why her middle name was the same as the Queen's, but then decided that they were probably relatives or something. Of course there were also those who weren't actually important enough to get a first name, like Captain Panaka, but surely a Senator was much more important than a simple head of security, so Anakin was positive that Palpatine must have a first name.

At first he tried guessing, but none of the names Anakin came up with seemed to fit the dignified Senator, and the only name Anakin could really think of (never having known all that many other names in his life) was Ben, anyway.

In order to get a better look at Palpatine to intensify his scrutiny, Anakin stepped closer to the transparent door. To his alarm, the door swished open. He must have activated the proximity detectors of the automatic door.

Startled, Anakin quickly backed away from the door. Thankfully, no one inside had noticed his misstep.

Anakin had been much too stunned by the door suddenly opening to catch much of what had been said on the inside, but one thing he had understood quite clearly. The Senator had definitely said: "I must be Frank, Your Majesty."

Proud that he had managed to solve the mystery about the Senator's first name, he tried it out a few times, just to hear how it sounded. "Frank Palpatine. Frank Palpatine. Frank Palpatine… yeah, that does sound right," he finally decided.

That was the reason why, for many years to come, Anakin would privately think of Palpatine as Frank and occasionally call him by his alleged first name in public. Later, as the Senator who would by then have become Chancellor became a close friend of his, he would even go so far as to call him 'Frankie-Boy' when they had their private chats.

Palpatine (who really didn't have any first names just as Yoda didn't have any surnames) was puzzled by this seemingly random christening to no end. Also, Obi-Wan would worry for years about his Padawan's imaginary friend who apparently went by the ridiculous name of 'Frank' and whose opinions much too closely resembled those of a real Sith Lord for Obi-Wan's peace of mind.

Soon after, Jar Jar announced that he needed to go to the toilet. Apparently, he was afraid of doing so by himself, and so he asked Anakin to come along.

"Oh, all right." Anakin agreed, feeling a bit unsure if he really wanted to accompany the Gungan at all, but Jar Jar had already grabbed his wrist and was pulling him along.

Anakin just hoped he wouldn't obtain any permanent psychological damage from their trip to the fresher. One could never know with Jar Jar.

oOo

Qui-Gon Jinn was waiting right outside the doors to the Chamber of the Jedi High Council, the rhythmic stomps of his restless and impatient pacing slowly chipping away at his own dwindling restraint. Why was it always that one had to wait for the Council? Qui-Gon couldn't help but think that this was a demonstration of power, which only served to heighten his irritation. Why did they request his immediate presence when they refused to let him in once he arrived and instead continued whatever they did in there? They could just as well have finished their Council stuff and _then_ called for him.

His pacing increased along with his blood pressure.

From the side of the foyer, where Qui-Gon's Padawan sat on a bench near the wall, came yet another soft sigh.

Of course, Obi-Wan wouldn't go so far as to ask him to stop pacing or even chide the Master for his un-Jedi-like behaviour, but the occasional sigh indicated that Qui-Gon's mood was affecting him, too.

Obi-Wan had to bite his tongue to refrain from once again asserting that he had a very bad feeling about this.

Unfortunately, though, he _had_ a very bad feeling about this. Not only had the Sith, whom the Jedi had believed extinct for the last millennium, suddenly and unexpectedly reappeared – as if that in and of itself wasn't bad enough already.

Obi-Wan was also confused and on edge because of Anakin. Though he seemed like a nice enough boy and the Padawan had taken a tentative liking to him, the cold hard lump of dread that had settled in the bottom of his stomach unequivocally contradicted the air of innocent curiosity and friendliness Anakin radiated, and the Fore also told him something else entirely.

Obi-Wan's musings were suddenly interrupted when the Council's aide announced that the Council would see them now and bade them enter.

Qui-Gon flatly refused to do so and told the aide that since he had to wait till the Council was done with whatever it was they did when no one was looking, now _they_ would have to wait till he was finished pacing. The aide backed off, completely bewildered, and retreated into the Council Chamber to inform the revered Masters of Master Jinn's decision.

This time, Obi-Wan's sigh was a bit louder than before.

After another five minutes of waiting the Council sent the aide again, and Qui-Gon could be convinced to finally come in without any more fuss.

The Master marched into the round chamber at the top of one of the towers of the Jedi Temple, followed by his Padawan who entered at a more sedate and appropriate pace.

They were greeted by the disapproving and hard stares of the Council members. This didn't bode all too well for the debriefing to come with both the Council and Qui-Gon already upset.

The Master-Padawan-team walked to the middle of the chamber and bowed – curtly in one and more respectfully in the other case. The eyes of the Council members were fixed on them from all sides. Obi-Wan always wondered why the seats were arranged in a full circle instead of a half-circle so that they could be faced all at once and not so that some of the Masters would have to look at their backs – though at least the female Masters hadn't protested against this arrangement so far.

As usual, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan were primarily facing Master Yoda, and that by default meant that they were also facing Master Windu (who looked especially grim today), Master Mundi (the alien with the incredibly tall forehead) and Master Koon (who wore a breathing mask which was the precursor of the breathing apparatus for Darth Vader).

At least they didn't have to face the only genuine Yeti Jedi – his face was completely hidden behind a veil of thick and long fur and so his face was even more unreadable than everyone else's.

Obi-Wan was even more relieved that they didn't have to look at Master Poof. The Master had an extraordinarily long and thin neck, which shouldn't by all means be able to actually support his head. Somehow, his head still didn't simply fall off, but it constantly swayed back and forth. As a young child, Obi-Wan had been fascinated by Master Poof and had often had trouble paying proper attention to what the Council Masters were saying because he had stared at Master Poof's swaying head for too long and had gotten hypnotized by the continuous and unvarying motion. Thankfully, he hadn't been the only one to be so affected by the alien Master's head, and so Master Poof had been assigned a seat roughly opposite from Master Windu so that the people who talked to the Council didn't end up in a strange state of mind because they had looked at the swaying head for too long. It had also been made a requirement for any new Masters accepted into the Council to withstand Master Poof's hypnotic effect for at least half an hour.

Mace Windu greeted them, his customary frown even deeper than normal.

"Master Jinn, Padawan Kenobi."

Qui-Gon answered just as grimly. "Masters of the Council," he said, with a terse nod.

Obi-Wan silently pleaded that his Master wouldn't bring up the whole waiting issue again, and for once Qui-Gon did him the favour of not immediately quarrelling with the Council.

The Padawan was immensely grateful that his Master instead recounted the mission moderately accurately. He quickly summed up the events on Naboo and skimmed the surface of what had happened on Tatooine. Before the Masters of the Council could further investigate Qui-Gon's somewhat un-Jedi-like and arguably legal actions, Qui-Gon baffled them with the revelation of the warrior he had fought in the desert.

"He was trained in the Jedi arts," he stated. Somewhere in the galaxy, Darth Maul silently thanked him for referring to him as a 'he' instead of 'it'. He had been really angry about that back on Tatooine.

After a short pause in which Qui-Gon sensed the appreciation of someone he really didn't know for a reason he really didn't know, he resumed his mission report: "My only conclusion can be that it was a Sith Lord."

With his usual bluntness, Qui-Gon once again had completely forestalled the Council's agreement. "Impossible," Ki-Adi Mundi immediately protested. "The Sith have been extinct for a millennium!"

"I do not believe the Sith could have returned without us knowing," Mace Windu agreed.

For some reason, though, both didn't seem all that sure because they looked at Yoda expectantly.

"Hmmmm…" Yoda harrumphed. His eyes were half-closed and he looked distinctly sleepy – he probably had been looking at Master Poof too much.

"Hmmm, hard to see, the Dark Side is. Probably because dark, it is, and our eyes, light they need to see," Yoda reasoned.

Qui-Gon didn't look exactly pleased with the Council's verdict, but then, Obi-Wan would have been very surprised if he had.

"We will use all our resources to unravel this mystery," Mace promised. "We will discover the identity of your attacker. May the Force be with you," he finished, clearly dismissing Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan.

The two Jedi bowed once again, Qui-Gon's bow noticeably less deep and respectful than his Padawan's, barely more, in fact, than a brusque nod. And while Obi-Wan had all intentions to heed the dismissal, Qui-Gon showed no signs of leaving.

The Padawan was already halfway to the door before he turned around and awaited the inevitable. The debriefing had gone unexpectedly well so far, but of course Qui-Gon couldn't possibly leave it at that. Obi-Wan couldn't quite ban the look of aggravation from his face.

"Master Qui-Gon," Yoda inquired, "more to say you have?"

"With your permission, my Master," Qui-Gon began – Obi-Wan was quite impressed with the way his Master could suddenly become polite when he wanted something – "I have encountered a vergence in the Force."

Qui-Gon looked around, challenging the Council to disagree.

"A vergence, you say?" Yoda asked disbelievingly. "What kind of word, that is? My spellchecker, not know this word, it does, and find it in my Oxford Advanced Learner's Dictionary, I could not."

Mace Windu also seemed sceptical. "Located around a person?" he inquired warily.

"A boy," Qui-Gon finally admitted. "His cells have the highest concentration of midi-chlorians I have seen in a life-form."

In the background, Obi-Wan shrugged apologetically. He had done all he could to reconcile his Master with reason, but Qui-Gon had proven as stubborn as always.

The Council Masters were not pleased. They had quite enough of Qui-Gon's Chosen Ones, and this was clearly where the maverick Jedi was headed. Besides, they were really tired of Qui-Gon's state of continuous ignorance concerning cell biology when they had specifically instructed Obi-Wan to enlighten his Master about the difference between real mitochondria and imaginary midi-chlorians. And now Qui-Gon completely topped it all by adding: "It is possible he was conceived by the midi-chlorians."

Considering the disbelieving looks some of the Council Members traded at the ignorance of a certain Jedi Master, Obi-Wan dreaded that now he would also have to inform his Master about the details of reproduction, and that was not exactly a task he was looking forward to.

Master Windu could already guess where his dear yet sometimes obstinate friend was headed with this. "You refer to the prophecy of the one who will bring balance to the Force. You believe it's this boy?" Mace sounded incredulous. So Qui-Gon still believed strongly in what was essentially considered a joke – albeit a rather bad one – by the Council.

"I don't presume to-" Qui-Gon started to say, but he as interrupted by a gloating Yoda: "But you do! Revealed your opinion is."

"I request the boy be tested, Master," Qui-Gon requested, true to his word.

Yoda crossed his eyes – which made him look even more stupid than he did, anyway – and he said in his strange raspy voice: "Trained as a Jedi, you request for him, hmmm?"

"Finding him was the will of the Force. I have no doubt of that," Qui-Gon firmly insisted.

Master Mundi could barely refrain from saying that certainly _only_ Qui-Gon was the _single_ Master in the _entire_ Jedi Order who would claim to know the _precise_ will of the Force.

The Council Members traded meaningful looks, though Obi-Wan was not sure about their actual meaning, aside from the fact that the Council seemed as displeased with his Master as he was, if not even more so.

Finally, with a disgruntled shake of his head, Mace acquiesced: "Bring him before us, then."

Without another word but with a slightly deeper bow this time, Qui-Gon left the Council Chamber, and Obi-Wan fell in step behind him. The Padawan felt like he had to have a rather serious and possibly also very embarrassing talk with his Master about cellular biology, the manner of mammal reproduction and Anakin.

oOo

Anakin had finally found his way back from the fresher. With Jar Jar's navigational skills, they had been in the basement, in the attic and even in the adjacent building before they had actually found a fresher that was to the Gungan's liking – or any fresher at all, for that matter.

It had taken Anakin half an eternity to find his way back to Palpatine's senatorial quarters. Now he stood at the front door and one of the security guys who had come with them on the Naboo cruiser wouldn't let him through.

"The boy's here to see Padmé," he said into his comm. link.

Now Anakin was affronted. He was about to strictly tell the man that he had a name, thank you very much, when a female voice answered: "Let him in."

The door swished open and Anakin entered the quarters, which were decorated in just the same shade of red as the whole rest of this part of the building. As soon as he had taken a few steps inside, one of the handmaidens intercepted him.

"I'm sorry, Ani, but Padmé's not here right now," the dark-clad handmaiden explained.

"Who is it?" the Queen asked from the next room. Obviously the numerous layers of make-up must have affected her hearing because the handmaiden had clearly said Anakin's name and she had just been a few meters away.

"Anakin Skywalker to see Padmé, Your Highness," the handmaiden answered in a strange accent. Why she should have such a strange accent when she was from Naboo and nobody else on Naboo talked in the same unusual way was very odd, though.

The Queen was obviously busy deciding which dress to wear for her address in the Senate. Several of the silver boxes in the room were open and revealed what they contained: lots and lots of clothes.

Anakin politely bowed to the Queen, though no matter how much he tried, he couldn't quite keep the chortle at the Queen's ridiculous dress from escaping his lips.

"I've sent me… erm, I mean Padmé on an errand. I really must pay attention. I get so mixed up sometimes," she said, displeased with her own lack of focus.

"I'm on my way to the Jedi Temple to start my training, I hope," Anakin elaborated. "I may never see her again before I'll marry her – at least not for the next ten years or so – so I came to say goodbye."

"We will tell her for you. We are sure her heart goes with you," the Queen said in her emotionless voice, which made the assurance seem somehow a bit hollow.

Still, Anakin bowed again and said "Thank you, Your Highness" before he left, feeling disappointed that he hadn't seen Padmé again, and confused about how the Queen and Padmé would continue living if their hearts would leave their bodies to go with him when they didn't.

Padmé had decided that addressing the Senate qualified as important enough so that she would do it herself instead of having one of her handmaidens do it, though she certainly would have preferred to go on a sightseeing tour. She had heard that recently, the Jedi Council had granted access to the more public parts of the Temple which were all shown to interested visitors by a guided tour. As fresher duty had slowly failed to stop rampant Padawans from playing pranks – mostly on Masters Yoda and Windu, for some reason – they had to come up with something else, something infinitely more dreadful than cleaning filthy freshers or the refectory's dishes – guiding nosy tourists around the Temple, politely answering their stupid and prying questions.

The prank rate had instantly dropped by 73 per cent.

Padmé threw a wistful glance in the direction where she thought the Jedi Temple was located – in fact she was staring towards the building that housed the CIA, which was short for the Caring Individuals of Alderaan, a charity organisation which obviously came from Alderaan and mostly stood for galactic peace, gave food and medical help to poor people and regularly protested against the immense pollution of Coruscant's last remaining three and a half trees still existing outside the Jedi Temple. They did have a rather extraordinary and impressive building, though, so Padmé's mix-up was easily understandable.

Then, the young Queen took a calming breath, straightened her back and marched into the Great Convocation Chamber where most Senators were already in their little flying saucers.

She didn't have to wait long for the session to begin. Unfortunately, it started with a roll call, which took about two and a half hours. At first, Padmé was impressed and honoured that so many Senators had come: there were Wookies, Twi'leks, Neimoidians and all kinds of funny-looking aliens, like the E.T.s with their short, squat bodies, their turtle-like necks and their glowing fingertips. But soon, the endless list of names was becoming boring, and so Padmé simply sat next to Palpatine and they quietly made fun of Senators with a noticably alien physique.

They had so much fun chatting about the peculiarities of Senator Krak'chrwns-Priglumos that they almost didn't notice that Chancellor Valorum had just called the last name on the list and now announced: "The chair recognizes the Senator from the sovereign system of Naboo."

Padmé was a bit confused. Of course, she also found chairs which were capable of recognizing Senators – or any people, for that matter – pretty amazing, but she didn't understand why the Chancellor would announce that during a special session that was about her planet. Maybe he was a salesman who wanted to sell a few of these immensely intelligent chairs to her?

Thankfully, though, Palpatine knew what to do. He stepped up to the steering panel of their UFO – which should correctly be termed KFO, since it was a Known Flying Object rather than an Unknown one, but UFO simply sounded better – and they floated towards the Chancellor's podium.

"Supreme Chanellor, delegates of the Senate," Palpatine greeted everyone present in a magnified voice that echoed through the huge dome containing thousands of Senators from all over the galaxy. "A tragedy has occurred which started right here with my devious scheming…" Palaptine suddenly stopped. There he had almost gone and uncovered his secret plans again. He r_eally _should pay better attention to what he proclaimed in the Senate.

Qui-Gon would have envied the casualness of the Force suggestion that ensued, had he known about it, and seconds later the previous few seconds were effectively obliterated from the minds of everyone present.

Palpatine calmly started again. "A tragedy has occurred which started right here with the taxation of trade routes and has now engulfed our entire planet in the oppression of the Trade Federation."

It took exactly 2.47 seconds for the representatives of the Trade Federation to vehemently deny this. "This is outrageous! I object to the Senator's statements!"

The Chancellor vainly tried to reinstall some semblance of order. "The chair does not recognize the Senator from the Trade Federation at this time!" he rebuked the Neimoidian delegates.

Padmé's opinion of that obscure chair Valorum so desperately wanted to sell went up by a few notches – five notches to be correct. She was still a bit unsure as to the meaning of all this chair-business, but if the chair didn't want to look at the Neimoidians, she could fully understand and even heartily agree with that.

The Trade Federation seemed to be effectively silenced by that for the moment, and Palpatine took the chance to introduce Padmé: "To state our allegations, I present Queen Amidala, recently elected ruler of the Naboo, who speaks on our behalf."

A few of the Senators wondered why someone would elect a ruler who was so obviously unfit to serve the purpose of drawing straight lines with her, but the rest of them were aware that the ruler was in that case a monarch instead of a piece of plastic marked with centimetres.

Palpatine left the dais of their UFO and Padmé stepped up. She had donned the most ridiculous dress with huge shoulders and complete with what resembled a jester's hat on her head for the occasion to impress the Senators, but now she felt distinctly stupid. All the other Senators wore much more elegant yet much less garish and bizarre robes than her.

But since it was too late to do anything about that now – she should have listened to the chortles and foolish grins she had received from just about anyone who met her when there had still been time to change her attire – she valiantly took the place the Senator had just vacated and for a few seconds tried to remember her text.

"Honourable representatives of the Senate," Padmé began. "I come to you under the gravest of circumstances. The Naboo system has been invaded by the droid armies of the Trade-" was as far as she got before the Trade Federation rudely interrupted her.

"I object! There is no proof! This is incredible!" The Neimoidians were livid, their faces flushed a bright blue – red would look rather strange on them – and they vented their disbelief at such vile accusations by loudly protesting. "We recommend a commission be sent to Naboo to ascertain the truth," they demanded.

Padmé looked like she would burst into tears any minute. Here she was, feeling really stupid already with her ludicrous clothes and her droning voice, and now these bastards were accusing her of lying and simply wouldn't let her finish her carefully prepared and memorized speech! This was her great moment, her chance to leave a good first impression with all these important politicians and while she was at it, she might as well help her people, and these slimy green aliens were completely ruining it!

Now it was her turn to start protesting. Stamping her food like a willful child (which, with barely fourteen years of age, she still could be) she started out with her furious tirade: "Oh my gosh, I can't believe you just said that! I am the Queen of the Naboo, and I am important and will not be interrupted by such ugly creatures as you, and I want my planet back! And if I find you have destroyed a single one of my dresses, I will… I will… I will…" Padmé's breath hitched theatrically. "I will start to cry!" The Queen's chin wobbled alarmingly and she seemed so miserable that many a Senator couldn't help but feel sympathy for that poor child.

Not so the three-eyed aliens, though. They felt they should say something, too, because they hadn't said anything in quite some time, and since they were genetically lacking the capacity to feel sympathy, they agreed with the Trade Federation. "The Congress of Malastare concurs with the honourable delegate from the Trade Federation. A commission must be appointed," the representative insisted.

Padmé thought that Malastare sounded somehow familiar. Wasn't that the planet where, according to Qui-Gon, they had very fast and very dangerous pod races? Why would such a planet be in the Republic and why wouldn't the Republic take action against illegal races if this planet were a part of it? This seemed all awfully strange to her.

"The point –" the Chancellor was about to say when he was interrupted by the horned blue alien standing next to him. "Excuse me, Chancellor…" and the two politicians started whispering urgently.

"Enter the bureaucrats," Palpatine commented. "The true rulers of the Republic, although you can't draw a straight line with them at all. I know, I tried. There is just nothing straight about them whatsoever. And they are on the payroll of the Trade Federation, I might add. This is where Chancellor Valorum's strength will disappear."

Just to make sure that Valorum wouldn't suffer from an inconveniently timed bout of courage and decide to help Queen Amidala, he added another Force suggestion for good measure. The secret Sith vowed to cut down on them, though, once this vital part of his plan was over, because he didn't want a bunch of very inquisitive Jedi on his doorstep. He didn't feel ready to come out of the closet yet.

"The point is conceded," the Supreme Chancellor announced shortly after. "Will you defer your motion to allow a commission to explore the validity of your accusations?"

Padmé needed a about half a minute to figure out what Valorum had just said. Not even a certain Jedi Padawan she knew talked that complicated.

Since Palpatine had told her that the Chancellor would propose a solution which wasn't in her favour, though, she objected, hoping that her course of action was the right one.

"I will not defer. I have come before you to resolve this attack on our sovereignty now." _Take that, man who likes complicated words!_ Padmé struck back with some of the more convoluted words in her own vocabulary. "I was not elected to watch my clothes being destroyed and to watch my people suffer and die while you discuss this invasion in a committee."

The silence which settled over the Senate Chamber was complete – except for the buzzing of Palpatine's comm. link, which he had forgotten to turn off. Quickly, he switched the offending device off.

Somewhere outside on a landing platform stood the delivery man with Palpatine's order of Chinese food, which was slowly becoming cold, and stared disbelievingly at his comm.

The tiny sound quite effectively destroyed the serious and somber mood in the Senate.

Before the situation could become any more embarrassing, Padmé continued.

"If this body is not capable of action, I suggest new leadership is needed. I move for a vote of no confidence in Chancellor Valorum's leadership."

Suddenly, the previously quiet and dignified Senators all jumped up and all of them simultaneously stated their opinion to anyone who wanted to hear it – which was no one except themselves, of course – in loud voices. The Grand Convocation Chamber suddenly transformed into something resembling the arena of a major sporting event, and Valorum was the referee who had just made an unpopular decision.

The Wookie Senators roared their approval – or perhaps it was their disapproval. One could never be sure with Wookies, because no matter what they said, it invariably sounded like they said "Roooaaaaar!"

They always pronounced their roars very carefully, though, so that they couldn't be misunderstood as howls, which equaled the most offensive insult possible for a Wookie.

The E.T.s also animatedly shouted at each other, trying to get a connection to their home planet with the comm. links implanted into the tips of their glowing fingers, but it seemed Naboo hadn't been the only planet not to pay the phone bill on time, and so they couldn't tell their wives/best friends/neighbours/generally anyone willing to listen to them about this upheaval in the Galactic Senate.

Gradually, the excited yells changed to a chorus of "Vote now!"

Valorum had to sit down. He still thought that his suggestion had been the most reasonable course of action. After all, they were a democracy, and it was unacceptable to simply take any accusations at face value without first checking whether they were true. And really, such a commission wouldn't have taken any longer than a day to reach a conclusion if the situation was as straightforward as the Queen had described. In fact, the commission wouldn't even have needed to travel to Naboo, they would probably just have asked the two Jedi involved to elaborate on the whole affair. The Queen's vote of no confidence had caught him completely unawares, and he felt shocked and deeply sad about her mistrust when he had only honestly tried to help her.

The booming shouts for order by the horned blue alien next to him startled him out of his misery. Finis Valorum, former Supreme Chancellor, didn't dare look anyone in the face for fear of seeing the condemnation in the Senator's eyes. He had tried to be a good and honest Chancellor, but obviously good and honest wasn't what the Republic wanted. He felt deeply ashamed and withdrew as soon as possible.

"Now they will elect a new Chancellor," Palpatine whispered to Queen Amidala, "a strong Chancellor, one who will not let our tragedy continue, one who will hopefully be me."

Padmé looked all but assured at these words. She had no idea how the situation could have slipped out of control so easily, and she wasn't entirely sure that the vote of no confidence had been a good idea.

She, too, was starting to have a very bad feeling about this.

oOo

Obi-Wan had the strong feeling of déjà-vu as he once again sat outside the Council Chamber with Qui-Gon pacing restlessly up and down the foyer. After having picked up Anakin from the Senator's apartment, they had spent the afternoon in the traffic jam because Qui-Gon had insisted they take the main route which was in fact a sole traffic catastrophe any time of day. Everyone's nerves were a bit frayed by the time they arrived back at the Jedi Temple.

Qui-Gon had rushed off to see the Council about Anakin as soon as they touched down in the hangar, and the fact that they had to wait for a good fifteen minutes before the Council admitted them had done nothing to soothe the Jedi Master's already worn patience.

Anakin had been admitted a short time ago, but Qui-Gon and his Padawan had to wait outside while the Council tested Qui-Gon's newest protégé. Qui-Gon's serenity was nothing more as a considerably cracked veneer of calm as he snapped after pacing for another five minutes: "Let's get away from here. We shall go for a walk."

Obi-Wan stood up and followed his Master on his aimless stroll through the Temple, staying the traditional distance behind Qui-Gon.

And Qui-Gon was not the only one to be tense. Since Anakin had disappeared inside the Council Chamber, the Force was insistently showing Obi-Wan nightmarish flickers of images of what the Padawan presumed to be either glimpses of the future (but what a bleak future that would make) or his own overactive imagination once again getting the better of him.

The Padawan would much prefer if Anakin didn't become a Jedi. Not that he didn't like the boy, but Obi-Wan thought that he would be much better off with a temporary family or even with the Queen whom he seemed to have a huge crush on until they could somehow free his mother. Maybe they could get the Queen to part with one or two of her not-quite-so-favourite dresses to raise a bit of money to send to Miss Skywalker, because as Jedi, neither Qui-Gon nor he had anywhere near the wealth needed to free a slave.

Besides, Anakin was already nine years old. Obi-Wan highly doubted that the Council could let go of enough of their inflexibility to allow anyone who was over six years older than the usual age limit to be trained. Qui-Gon had already asked for quite a lot of people (and things, too) to be trained, claiming that they were the 'Chosen One' and the Counil had refused every time so far. Granted, they almost gave in once when Qui-Gon presented them a mildly Force-sensitive stray puppy, but Obi-Wan had always suspected that that rather had to do something with the huge puppy-eyed look the admittedly quite adorable little creature had given them than with its actual potential as a Jedi.

Qui-Gon had been crushed every time the Council refused his request because he was always so sure to have finally found his Chosen One that it never even crossed his mind that the Jedi Order really didn't have need of either a smelly and rather vicious rat or an even smellier piece of meat that had already come alive again and was crawling not just with germs but – according to Qui-Gon – also with the Living Force, or the puppy with the huge eyes the Council had almost accepted. Or, one of Qui-Gon's more recent applicants, a piece of toast.

Obi-Wan felt he had to inform his Master of the Council's most likely decision, to at least try to soften the impact the Council's refusal would have on him.

"The boy will not pass the Council's test, Master. He is too old," he said quietly just as they stepped onto a balcony to watch the mandatory sunset – there had to be at least one fiery sunset in every episode, and due to Coruscant's extremely polluted atmosphere, they were especially fiery and red on the Republic's capital planet.

But as always, Qui-Gon stubbornly clung to his twisted convictions.

"Anakin will become a Jedi, I promise you," he answered just as quietly.

Obi-Wan's stomach did a back flip at these words, and it was a quite impressive one for a stomach to perform, too.

Even though knowing that it would probably prove just as futile as all the other attempts to get Qui-Gon to see reason, Obi-Wan didn't give up.

"Please don't defy the Council, Master, not again," he implored his stubborn mentor. "I know I said that already about a thousand times, but I will say it a thousand times should it be necessary. I have a bad feeling about this, and I really don't think that the Council will admit Anakin into the Order. Nor am I all too sure that they should. It's not like I wish the boy bad, I just think that he would be much happier – and much less dangerous – if he just stayed with a real family, preferably with his mother. I fear that if he becomes a Jedi, terrible things will happen. Anakin will inexorably spiral out of control. He will slaughter a tribe of the Sand People, he will clandestinely marry a politician – a _politician_ of all people! – and then join the Dark Side because of some irrational fear about his secret wife's death because of birth complications – as if anyone still dies of that in such a highly technological universe as ours, never mind that Jedi are not supposed to have a wife and children. A war will break out which will eventually lead to the destruction of the Jedi Order, and Anakin will be the one to attack the Temple. When Master Windu will fight the Sith Lord, Anakin will chop off his hands so that consequently the Sith Lord can **defenestrate** Master Windu. And when almost all Jedi are dead, Master Yoda will pick some miserable soul who is already completely devastated by the death of all his friends and the turning of his brother to face this Chosen-One-turned-Sith on a horrible volcanic planet, where they will fight until one of them gains the higher ground. Due to the volcanic nature of the planet their fight takes place on, Anakin will develop a severe **Pneumono-ultra-microscopic-silico-volcanoiosis** because of all the ashes and dust in the planet's atmosphere and his lung will be permanently damaged so that he will need a shiny black suit and a machine to breathe for him."

Obi-Wan drew in a shaky breath. He seemed a bit overwhelmed at his own pessimistic view of the future as much as he was shaken by this premonition.

Qui-Gon stared at his apprentice, his eyes reflecting concern for that unexpected outburst and exasperation in equal parts.

"You are such a drama queen, Obi-Wan! That's just plain ridiculous. I mean, have you had a good look at Anakin? His round, angelic face, his golden hair and skin, his huge and curious bright blue eyes and these adorable dimples in his cheeks? How can you accuse someone as innocent and sweet as that of such vile crimes? **Defenestrate** Mace Windu! Kill the Jedi! Next thing you'll start accusing him of killing younglings or some such nonsense. Anakin a Sith, my arse! Padawan, you are much too old for this kind of irrational, childish behaviour," Qui-Gon reproached his apprentice.

Obi-Wan looked properly ashamed of his behaviour. What had he thought, letting his absurd fears run away with his reason like this? This bleak version of the future was such a ridiculous exaggeration that now, come to think of it, even Obi-Wan doubted himself.

And yet… he still once again pleaded with his Master to please accept the Council's verdict and not argue with them any more.

To Obi-Wan's dismay Qui-Gon, with an almost pitying expression in his eyes, told him quietly: "I shall do what I must, Obi-Wan."

The wind seemed to carry a ghostly whisper as if from a great distance to Obi-Wan. He thought he could almost hear the words "You will try!" on the evening breeze, closely followed by a much more familiar voice which insisted that "There is no try!"

Obi-Wan chased the diminutive green Master and the creepy other voice from his thoughts and realized that Qui-Gon had walked away from him, to the edge of the balcony, and was staring down into the busy traffic. He followed his Master and also gazed off into the distance. It seemed so much easier to do than look into Qui-Gon's eyes at the moment.

Though he knew it would presumably be a moot point, Obi-Wan still pointed out that Qui-Gon would in his opinion clash less often with the Council if he just would be a bit less of an obstinate maverick.

"If you would just follow the Code, you would be on the Council." The apprentice paused for a moment before adding, just in case Qui-Gon had forgotten about it again: "They will not go along with you this time."

Qui-Gon heaved a sigh. _Ah, the delusions of youth_, he thought. Sometimes, he wished for an apprentice who was just a bit more unconventional and a bit more like himself. Then again, the Jedi Master couldn't help but realize that he would be constantly at odds with someone who had a similar tendency to do what he pleased and defy everything and everyone if he felt like it.

Still, Qui-Gon thought that it wouldn't hurt if his independent streak rubbed of at least a bit.

"You still have much to learn, my young apprentice," he said, giving Obi-Wan's shoulder a squeeze. What the gesture was supposed to mean was beyond Obi-Wan, though, but he decided to take it as a gesture of reassurance and maybe affection and as a promise that Qui-Gon would be there to teach him all he still had to learn, ignoring the bad feeling that once again told him that this would be not the case.

oOo

Edited on 4th May, 2010

Edited on 13th February, 2011


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

Disclaimer: Nope!

oOo

Anakin did his best to stifle a laugh. He couldn't quite force it back and so tried to at least conceal it as a cough.

He couldn't help but think that the Jedi Council must be the oddest assembly of weird-looking creatures in the whole Universe.

Slowly, unsure what to do, he walked into the Chamber and came to stand in the middle of the room. He did a complete turn, warily eyeing all the Councillors before his eyes finally settled on Yoda. Remembering what Obi-Wan had told him about the diminutive green Master, Anakin stared at Yoda attentively, wondering what the first signs of the Jedi Master's famous wisdom would be and how Obi-Wan had come to the conclusion that Yoda was a mutated pea.

Anakin decided that Yoda sure looked like a huge pea: the Jedi looked immensely old and wrinkled – just as wrinkled as old and shriveled-up peas were supposed to look, in fact – and the colour also seemed to be right. Anakin had never seen anyone who looked as green and as perfectly pea-coloured as Master Yoda.

Staring intently at the green Master so as not to miss anything, Anakin silently waited for him to show some outward sign of his pea-ness other than his colour.

To his disappointment, Yoda only looked back at him, studying Anakin with just as much curiosity as the boy studied him. The one to speak first was the tall, intimidating man who sat next to Yoda. Though this dark-skinned Jedi Master seemed frightening and cold to Anakin, the boy also felt a twinge of pity for him because aside from his eyebrows (and contrary to most other people in this room), there wasn't a single hair on his head. Still, Anakin was properly cowed and completely forgot that just moments ago, he had had trouble refraining from laughing out loud.

"Welcome," the scary Jedi said, though he didn't sound like he meant it at all. "I am Jedi Master Mace Windu and I will conduct the testing Master Qui-Gon requested."

The members of the Council were trading silent glances.

After what felt like half an eternity of silently looking at each other, Anakin was relieved when the forbidding Jedi spoke again, though he couldn't help feeling very uncomfortable.

"What is your name, boy?"

"Anakin Skywalker, sir," Anakin answered timidly.

The Jedi were once again trading meaningful looks, as if Anakin's name had already been a startling revelation.

_If they do that every time I say something, I will certainly go crazy_, Anakin thought. Unfortunately, the Council seemed to have picked up that thought, because yet another round of quiet glancing ensued.

Somehow, Anakin got the feeling that the Councillors were all talking behind his back, though he had no idea how they could do that without saying a word.

Still, Anakin gather his courage and addressed them: "You do know that it is most impolite to talk about people behind their backs, don't you? I know, because my mommy taught me. But since you don't have a mommy – at least Obi-Wan told me that Jedi grow up without their parents – I don't know if you know. So please stop, it's impolite," he informed the Council solemnly.

That, at least, had the effect that now everyone was looking at _him_ and not at their neighbours. Anakin could only see the expression on the faces of the Councillors in front of him, but most of them looked more shocked and indignant than Qui-Gon had when Anakin had pulled on his hair to see if it was real or just a wig.

Anakin almost didn't dare look at the scary Jedi. And really, Mace Windu looked about ready to explode, and only a sharp glance coupled with a mental reproach from Yoda kept him from pointing out that Anakin's mother was so hairy that the only species to fall for her furry charms were the Wookies. What Mace didn't know was just how lucky he was that Qui-Gon hadn't caught that thought, or else he would probably have made good on Obi-Wan's premonition and defenestrated his childhood friend then and there, never mind the consequences – because Qui-Gon rarely minded the consequences of his actions.

Only Master Yoda's eyes sparkled with barely restrained amusement.

To Anakin's vast surprise, the small green Master agreed with him.

"Right, young Anakin here is. Polite, we were not. Look a bit less intimidating, you should, Mace," Yoda lightly admonished his fellow Councillor, "or afraid of you, this little one will be. Good that would not be. Fear leads to the Dark Side."

As if to emphasize his point, he rapped the gnarled stick in his hand on the polished floor. Anakin though that maybe he should also tell Master Yoda not to do that because he made ugly dents and scratches in the shining tiles, but then reconsidered. In an uncharacteristic moment of tact, he realized that he had probably already overstepped his boundaries with that earlier remark.

After the tension in the Council Chamber had subsided a bit, Mace cleared his throat and turned to Anakin again and explained what all this would be about.

"Qui-Gon asked for you to be tested to determine whether you have the potential to become a Jedi. We will start with something easy and then get to more difficult tests."

"Okay," Anakin agreed with an enthusiastic nod. The earlier they got started, the better. He really wanted to become a Jedi. Padmé seemed to be fascinated with Jedi apprentices, so maybe that would increase his chances of marrying her someday.

Also, he wanted one of these cool lightsabers. He had already put much thought into which colour he should choose. So far, he had only seen the green and blue ones that belonged to Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan respectively, and also the red one the Sith had been using.

Anakin shuddered when he thought of the Sith and took another look at Master Windu. For a short moment, he wondered if that was the Sith because he was so scary and intimidating, but then he noticed that, though he seemed forbidding and frightening, he didn't look _evil_, per se.

So Anakin dismissed the thought, and returned to the lightsaber issue. The boy wondered whether he could have a multicoloured one, one that had blue stripes to match his eyes and maybe a few brown ones to match Padmé's eyes. He finally settled on a lightsaber that could change colour, so that he didn't have to permanently settle on just one colour, and oh boy would that look great! So much better than the dull uniformly coloured ones.

Master Windu's voice snapped him out of his daydreams.

"Hey, Anakin, have you been listening?"

"Uh… ahem… sure I have. Um, what did you say again?"

Mace sighed, and then once again explained how the test would work.

"This screen here in my hand will show pictures of various things. You will tell me what it is that is shown on the screen."

"That's easy," Anakin sulked. Did they think he was still in kindergarten? He graduated from the pre-school playgroup a full two years ago! If they wanted to insult his intelligence, they had done an exceptional job.

Anakin stood there and waited for Master Windu to show him the first picture. Master Windu sat there and only stared at the little screen in his hand.

When Anakin didn't say anything, Mace questioned him: "So what do you see?"

Anakin didn't believe his ears. So that Jedi was not only impolite and bald, he was also dumb, as far as the boy could tell.

With all the patience he could muster, he slowly explained: "If you want me to name the thing on the screen, you will have to _show_ it to me. How else would I know what it is? Duh!"

Once again, Yoda had to restrain Mace from answering inappropriately.

"Use not your eyes. Only deceive you they can," the little green Master instructed.

Anakin mumbled that he was still young enough for his eyes to see everything clearly, unlike some people present. Everyone pretended to not have heard that.

"Use the Force, you must. To guide your perception, you must allow it."

Anakin really had no idea what the little green alien was talking about. When he looked around questioningly, though, he suddenly understood why they had given the screen to the bald Jedi. The image the little device showed was clearly reflected on the shiny, highly polished bald forehead of Master Windu.

Screwing his face up in a show of concentration, Anakin named all the things that appeared on Mace's forehead, his eyes never leaving the dark-skinned Master's face.

"Um, a flower. A lightsaber. A bunch of Wookies. The Millenium Falcon. Playing cards. A screw. Evaporated milk. Spaghetti Carbonara. Dental floss. I don't know what that's called. The **KISS principle** – keep it simple, stupid! Sorry, I didn't mean you, that's just what it means. An eyewitness. **Aristology** – or was it aristocracy? Or rather astrology? A high-end gauntlet. Uh, that one's hard… dignity, I'd say. An escape clause. A ship. A cup. A ship. A speeder."

Master Windu slowly lowered the screen. He and Yoda were truly impressed. Few got the 'dignity'-part right, and they had secretly always wondered what the one Anakin had termed 'the KISS-principle' meant. Granted, most of the answers had simply been wrong, but at least the boy had shown a vivid imagination and appearing confident when in reality he had no idea what was going on.

Yoda fixed his huge, watery eyes on Anakin, contemplating the boy before him.

"How feel you?" he rasped in his croaky voice.

Anakin decided that now was the time for some of the patheticness that worked so well with Qui-Gon. "Cold, sir," he answered in the most pitiable fashion he could think of. He had had to take off the robe Obi-Wan had lent him when he came before the Council. It had been smaller than Qui-Gon's but still much too long and wide for the boy, so that it rather looked like the robe wore him and not the other way around. Anakin threw a reproachful look at the Jedi Masters. They were all wearing their robes and so were comfortably warm even though the heating was turned off, but Anakin felt the slight chill through his thin clothes.

"Afraid, are you?" Yoda queried.

"No, sir," Anakin answered, striving to sound as pathetic and miserable as possible - Jedi were supposed to be compassionate, after all. "Well, maybe except of Master Window there," he admitted, pointing at said Councillor.

"See through you, we can," Yoda told him.

Anakin looked down, shocked, to check whether he could still see his body. It seemed as solid as ever, and Anakin couldn't see through it at all. He was thankful that he was not disappearing but puzzled by Yoda's remark. Why would the pea-descended Master say something like that? Suddenly, Anakin realized that Yoda's eyes had probably used x-rays, how else should he be able to see through things – and persons?

Even though he knew that it was probably futile, he wrapped his arms around himself protectively, vowing to sue the Jedi Order if he got cancer from their x-raying him.

The only time he had been subjected to x-rays before was when he had fallen down from the balcony and broken his leg. His mommy had nursed him back to health for five weeks. His leg had been completely whole again after just three weeks, but he had enjoyed being pampered by his mother so much that he had decided to stay ill just a bit longer than strictly necessary.

Suddenly, Anakin realized just how much he would miss his mother. He had a tight feeling in his throat. Anakin wistfully remembered her gentle smile, the loving light in her eyes when she looked at him, her soft words to comfort him when he was sad.

"Be mindful of your feelings," Mace told him.

"Your thoughts dwell on your mother," the alien with the tall forehead remarked.

"I miss her," Anakin stated as unambiguously as possible. He was a little boy who had been taken away from his mother and the only family he knew and thrown into a huge and dangerous galaxy practically on his own with just a fickle Jedi Master and his somewhat reserved Padawan to help him deal with it. That he would miss his mother was glaringly obvious, Anakin thought, and _of course_ he would think of her. She had been the most important person in his life, and still was, really. Not even the Jedi could possibly expect of him to just forget about her because he hadn't seen her for three days.

"Afraid to lose her, I think, hmmm?" Yoda asked, his eyes resting contemplatively on the boy.

Anakin couldn't believe his ears. Losing his mother was the worst nightmare of any child, so naturally he wouldn't want to lose her any more than he would want to lose, say, his right arm.

Still, Anakin didn't see how this should affect his suitability as a Jedi.

"What has that go to do with anything?" he asked sullenly. These Jedi really were none too bright, it seemed. Anakin's low regard of the Council clearly showed on his face, and the tone of his voice plainly conveyed his lack of respect.

"Everything," Yoda answered, not in the least bit phased by Anakin's rude backtalk. "Fear is the path to the Dark Side. Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering. Suffering leads to fear. Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering. Suffering leads to fear. Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering. Suffering leads to-"

Mace Windu reached over and sharply rapped Yoda on the back of his head.

"Sorry, he tends to get caught in that vicious circle," Mace apologized to everyone present. "What he tries to say is that fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate, hate leads to suffering, and suffering apparently leads to the Dark Side, though according to Master Yoda, just about everything leads to the Dark Side." Mace turned to Anakin and quietly explained to him: "Only today, we already had cookies, elevators and getting elected as Supreme Chancellor as paths to the Dark Side. Try to never do anything that Yoda says will lead to the Dark Side: the punishments for that are severe, since they haven't changed since the founding of the Jedi Order, so they include such things as **immurement** or removal of limbs."

Anakin shuddered and decided that he'd rather not try _that_.

Yoda finally recovered. He suspected he had been looking for too long at Master Poof's swaying head again. That tended to have such a hypnotizing effect on him.

"I sense much fear in you," Master Yoda gravely concluded, adding to the foreboding already firmly established by Obi-Wan's bad feeling.

oOo

Edited on 13th February, 2011


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

Disclaimer: I am not that far gone yet, I think I can still discern between reality and wishful thinking.

oOo

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan were not the only ones watching the sunset.

Padmé stood at the window of Palpatine's apartment. Although it should have been impossible between her address of the Senate, her returning to her temporary rooms and the sunset, she still had somehow managed to change her attire once again. She must have done it in record time.

As Padmé watched the busy bustle of Coruscant's air lanes, she sadly remembered her own planet, which only had the usual down-to-earth streets. Padmé worried for her people and wondered how they were faring, but she dreaded that the Neimoidians weren't too gentle.

Although Padmé had requested to be left alone, Jar Jar had never exactly possessed tact and so walked up to the sad Queen.

"Yousa tinking yousa people ganna die?" he asked bluntly.

Padmé was shocked. She had thought of her people not being allowed to watch their favourite holoshows or go out to party. That people might actually die seemed unreal to her, she couldn't imagine that happening, she didn't want to imagine that. She would never be able to find the courage to return to her planet if she did.

"I don't know," Padmé admitted. She really didn't want to think about that any further. She rather lost herself in the buzzing traffic again.

"Gungans get pasted too, eh?" Jar Jar's direct manner was rather unsettling.

Padmé thought about her answer for a long time. As much as she disliked Jar Jar, she didn't know whether all Gungans were like him, and it was her hope that this was not the case.

Padmé shuddered. "I hope not," she voiced her thought, a thought that was rather disconcerting. The idea of having to share a planet with hundreds, maybe _thousands_ of Jar Jars was not a pleasant one.

"Gungans no die'n without a fight," Jar Jar, having misunderstood her worried answer, tried to reassure her. "Wesa warriors. Wesa got a grand army. Dat's why you no liken us, mesa tinks."

Padmé didn't regale that remark with an answer; her eyes were following the course of a bright red speeder she rather liked.

"Your Highness!" Captain Panaka came striding through the door, followed by a beaming Senator Palpatine. "Your Highness, Senator Palpatine has been nominated to succeed Valorum as Supreme Chancellor."

"Just as I had planned- erm, I mean, a surprise, but a welcome one. A surprise that perfectly fits my plans to attain unlimited power," Palpatine gleefully told her. "Your Majesty, if I am elected, I promise to put an end to corruption as it is now so that it can increase tenfold afterwards. I vow to instigate a war, to abolish democracy, to eliminate all Jedi and to become the sole tyrant ruler of the galaxy. Yes, I think I can honestly guarantee that I will do my very best to achieve those goals. I think I might even include these aims in my official policy, that makes me sound like a strong leader. And I strongly oppose the **pro-anti-dis-establishment-arianism** that has recently developed in the Senate."

Padmé didn't quite like the sound of that, though she couldn't exactly point a finger at what it was that caused her unease, and she really had no idea what Palpatine had just said.

The seemingly kindly Senator had in fact just stated that he strongly opposed the people who were for the people who were against the people who were against the establishment. To put it in a nutshell, he was against the establishment as it currently was, because he held not nearly enough power in it. He planned to rectify that in the near future by replacing the current organizational system of the Republic with another one that would be more to his liking. Much more. He had thought maybe of an empire or something similar.

Not that Padmé had understood any of that.

"Who else was nominated?" she inquired.

"Bail Antilles of Alderaan and Ainlee Teem of Malastare," Captain Panaka dutifully answered.

Padmé wondered who Bail Antilles was. Maybe he was somehow related to Bail Organa, but then again they only had the same first name which didn't necessarily imply family relations. Then again, the Senator might be the ancestor of a Captain Antilles who would play a minor role in the turbulent future that was to come, though Padmé couldn't imagine how the son of an esteemed politician should become a simple captain. Obviously she had never heard that political positions weren't hereditary. Then again, he did come from Alderaan, where everyone seemed to be related to everyone.

"I feel confident our position will create a strong sympathy vote for us, and if that shouldn't be enough, the Force suggestion I have in store for them should be," Palpatine assured the young Queen. "I will be Chancellor. I have seen it!" he finished more forcefully.

Padmé didn't seem reassured. "I fear by the time you have control of the bureaucrats, Senator, there will be nothing left of our people, our way of life, my entire wardrobe."

"I understand your concern, Your Majesty. Unfortunately, the Trade Federation has possession of our planet," Palpatine reminded her in a way that made crystal clear that he thought she didn't have the wits to have kept that important fact in mind nor to remember it for more than half a minute.

Padmé simply ignored his **infantilising** remark. "Senator, this is your arena. I feel I must return to mine."

Palaptine's eyebrows shot up in surprise. Padmé wanted to go to the arena on Geonosis? That seemed a bit premature, seeing as neither the arena was built yet nor had the conflict with the Separatists proceeded far enough for the Geonosians to want to execute the girl. Besides, she had even less of a chance getting rescued without her lovey-dovey Jedi protector and his deliberately oblivious Master.

The Senator only comprehended her intention when she theatrically turned around, the spectacular lights of Coruscant's brightly lit skyscrapers in her back, and announced: "I've decided to go back to Naboo."

Palpatine didn't quite believe his ears. This slip of a girl intended to do _what_? She must be mad! This was unbelievable. This was insanely dangerous not just for her but for everyone going with her on that foolish adventure.

This was even better than everything he could ever have come up with! This way, it would not only be highly probable that he would never have to see that annoyingly naïve and clothes-fixated girl ever again, but it also provided the perfect opportunity to have one or both of her Jedi protectors meet with an unfortunate little accident… or maybe with an unfortunate little deliberately set-up Jedi trap to get rid of these stupid, meddling Jedi. Palpatine could barely stand their presence, which was so full of self-righteous goodness and despicably serene composure and just so much sickening light that the secret Sith wanted to vomit just at the thought of it. Only by reminding himself of the bleak and devastating future he had planned for the entire Order did he manage to refrain from attacking them on the spot.

The evil, darkly gleeful smile that had slowly bled onto his face at these thoughts was quickly replaced with a phoney worried frown as the Senator voiced some token protest so as not to appear out of character.

"But, Your Majesty, be realistic. They'll force you to sign the treaty."  
"I will sign no treaty, Senator," Padmé promised, her monotonous voice steady with determination. "My fate will be no different than that of my clothes."

Palpatine hoped for exactly that.

"Captain!" the Queen ordered sharply.

"Your Highness," Panaka replied, ready to fulfill his Queen's wishes.

"Ready my ship."

Palpatine felt he should protest a little more, but not enough to actually stop Queen Amidala.

"Please, Your Majesty. Stay here where it's safe. Here, you'll only have to deal with boring politicians, slimy green aliens and the occasional Sith Lord. That's not nearly as dangerous as a bunch of Gungans, a few spindly droids and a very, _very_ overhung Sith apprentice or just about anything else you may encounter on Naboo right now."

"It is clear to me now that the Republic no longer functions," Padmé announced. "Something seems to be broken, you might want to check its hyperdrive generator. That's what was wrong with our ship. It no longer functioned, too, and that was the reason why we had to stop on Tatooine," Padmé said. Fixing the Senator with a sad yet hopeful gaze, she added: "I pray you will bring sanity and compassion back to the Senate." Padmé turned around briskly, and so she completely missed the look of distaste that crossed Palpatine's face at her words. Sanity and compassion were the last things Palpatine wanted to reign in the Senate, he would rather have aimed for chaos, difference of opinion, as much corruption and indecisiveness as he could possibly manage as well as quite a bit of maliciousness, indifference towards anything but themselves and also a good measure of mindless fear.

The Queen turned around and stalked off, her handmaidens following a step behind. Apparently, the Sith apprentice-look was quite the height of fashion this season, because both the handmaidens wore wide robes and their faces were hidden beneath giant hoods, their robes looking much like the clothes your average Sith would wear, except that theirs were red instead of the traditional Dark Side black.

Palpatine covered his gloating sneer with an entirely fake concerned frown as he watched the headstrong and oh so naïve Queen of Naboo fairly storm out of his office, unknowingly walking towards the destiny Sidious was busy devising for her. The Queen's crazy idea was very much to his liking, indeed.

oOo

High atop one of the tall spires of the Jedi Temple, the Council reconvened after a short break. Even Councillors had to eat from time to time, after all. During a light supper, the topics of their discussion had been Anakin Skywalker and what to do with him, as well as Qui-Gon's habit of bringing along stray so-called "Chosen Ones" and the results and implications of yesterday's sparring match between Master Yoda and Senator Palpatine (who had turned out to be surprisingly proficient with a lightsaber, much to the astonishment of the Jedi High Council, though Yoda had genuinely enjoyed to spar with someone of the Senator's unexpected skill and unusual style).

The honoured Councillors sat back down on their custom-made chairs, wriggling a bit to find the most comfortable position.

"Ugh! Do we really have to talk to Qui-Gon again? The man can be so blasted obstinate about the most irrational things!" Mace nearly whined. As much as he liked the unconventional Jedi Master, he had grown tired of having to listen to Qui-Gon's incessant ramblings about Chosen Ones this and Living Force that. And if the man should have the audacity to lecture the Council on the importance of bigger fish yet _again_, Mace had vowed that he would throw him out, never mind the Code or the fact that it would be an extremely un-Jedi-like thing to do.

Yoda sighed. He also felt tired and was reluctant to have his immense patience tested by the Order's most notoriously irrational Jedi twice in a row. But Yoda decided to do what he must, and besides, Qui-Gon was already once again outside the Council Chamber, pacing restlessly, waiting to be let in. He would inevitably talk to them; there was no escaping the stubbornness that was Qui-Gon Jinn. "Yes. Afraid, I am, that leave us alone, Master Qui-Gon will not. Get it over with quickly, we should," Yoda finally decreed.

A quiet sigh went around the circle of Councillors. Mace lifted a hand and reluctantly gestured towards the door, which swished open at his commend. It wasn't even fully open yet when Qui-Gon strolled through; followed by an intimidated and unsure Anakin Skywalker and an Obi-Wan Kenobi who once again couldn't do anything but offer an apologetic shrug to the Council.

The view from the Council Chamber was breathtaking. The city twinkling with thousands of lights stretched away in every direction as far as the eye could see and further. In the distance, the glittering lights of vehicles zoomed this way and that, creating an intricate pattern of moving light across the cloudy grey of Coruscant's night sky.

The beauty of the view was not completely lost on those within the chamber, but mostly it was. The minds of everyone present were on other things entirely, namely Padmé, the Chosen One in form of Anakin Skywalker, a defiant Jedi Master who simply didn't know when to stop (he was on more than one person's mind, to be sure) and a nicely cosy and warm bed, depending on who you were asking, of course.

As Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan and Anakin came to stand in the middle of the circle of Councillors, Mace once again greeted them. "Good evening, Master Jinn, Padawan Kenobi, young Skywalker."

The recipients of Mace's slightly less than heart-warming greeting bowed, though the respectfulness implied in these bows ranged from barely existent to appropriately polite to a somewhat confused compromise somewhere between the former two. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan stood next to each other, with Anakin standing in the middle and in front of them.

"Have the honoured and respected members of the high and mighty Council finally come to a conclusion concerning young Anakin here?" Qui-Gon immediately asked, his bluntness, defiance and disrespect no longer surprising the Council. They had become quite used to the bad temper Qui-Gon would develop if he didn't get his way, though they had yet to figure out how to deal with it successfully. So far, they had only found out that trying to calm him down with words, acts of goodwill on their part, soothing fragrances and **legato** music did not work.

The only one who was able to put up with the eccentric and peculiar ways of the Jedi's most notorious maverick was his Padawan, and none of the Councillors envied Obi-Wan his task of keeping Qui-Gon in check, though the way the apprentice handled his Master was admirable, considering that as Qui-Gon's inferior he could neither really make his Master do anything nor keep him from doing anything.

Mace Windu steepled his fingers and fixed his cold, hard stare on Qui-Gon.

"We have discussed your request for Anakin to be trained very thoroughly and have come to a decision regarding the boy's future," he stated frostily.

"The Force is strong with him," Yoda concurred with Qui-Gon's assessment of Anakin, though for very different reasons. He had been quite impressed with the boy. Anakin had been one of the few applicants who had passed the image-on-screen test with flying colours. Not because his answers had been particularly correct, but because he had managed to give them answers that were much more understandable than the average child gave them. The usual answers consisted of excited gargles and gurgles, upset squeals and cries or happy chattering, because the average child tested by the Jedi was still an infant and not a nine-year old. But to Yoda, who as approaching his ninth millennium, such a small difference of seven or eight years seemed tiny indeed, and so he had been more than amazed at Anakin's articulate answers.

"He is to be trained, then?" Qui-Gon asked hopefully. Anakin turned around to gaze up at his idol, trust and anticipation shining brightly in his eyes at the prospect of becoming a Jedi.

"No, he will not be trained," Mace squashed the hopes of Anakin and Qui-Gon and immensely relieved Obi-Wan, who at the same time felt really bad about being so relieved when Anakin's hopes of becoming a Jedi had just been crushed so callously by the oh so kind-hearted Master Windu. After all, Obi-Wan knew all too well how it felt to so desperately want to become a Jedi only to be rejected and denied this dream.

"No!" Qui-Gon protested, completely stunned by the Council's refusal. Didn't they see Anakin's immense potential? Didn't they comprehend that training Anakin was of paramount importance?

"He is too old," Mace elaborated. Anakin glared at the shrivelled green Master he was sure was behind this ploy to get rid of him with stunned disbelieve and hurt in his eyes. The decision-making in the Council was by no means democratic; Obi-Wan had told Anakin. Yoda decided and mostly bullied the rest of the Council to comply, using his enormous age and his therefore immense wisdom as leverage. This little gnome was just about a hundred times as old as he was, and still he was a Jedi, wasn't he? To Anakin, the ability to become a great Jedi was not a question of age, and he thought that no one in the whole galaxy could possibly be better suited to become a greater Jedi than him! Wasn't he the Chosen One, after all? Qui-Gon had said so, and continued to say so.

"He is the Chosen One. You must see it!" Qui-Gon stood there, shaking his head at the Council's obstinate ignorance. He couldn't believe that the so-called wisest Masters could be so blind!

Yoda's eyes were closed in contemplation – or maybe because he didn't want to see Anakin's hateful glare and Qui-Gon's insistently intent look any more.

"Clouded, this boy's future is," Yoda echoed the misgivings Obi-Wan had voiced earlier. Although the Padawan definitely agreed with Yoda's appraisal of the boy, the sad slump of Anakin's shoulders and the distressed look on Anakin's face made him feel sorry for the boy.

The pity for Anakin was quickly replaced by utter shock when Qui-Gon stepped forward, put his hands protectively on Anakin's shoulders and pronounced: "I will train him, then!"

Obi-Wan's head snapped up and he stared at his Master. Qui-Gon might as well have slapped him in the face. Hurt, betrayal and sadness glistened in Obi-Wan's eyes, though he did his best to keep all the warring emotions suddenly swirling inside him from showing on his face. "I take Anakin as my Padawan learner," Qui-Gon stated without so much as looking back at his current apprentice.

"An apprentice you have, Qui-Gon," Yoda reminded Qui-Gon.

_Yes, an apprentice you have, Master!_ Obi-Wan echoed in his head.

The little green Master didn't approve of Qui-Gon's rash and unthinking decision at all. "Impossible to take on a second."

"The Code forbids it," Mace seconded Yoda's opinion. The Code was sacred to him, and he took every violation of it very serious – and very personal.

"Obi-Wan is ready," Qui-Gon told the Council.

Obi-Wan looked once more at Anakin. The little boy with the chubby face and the huge questioning eyes, the slight quivering of Anakin's lip betraying his anxiety, the helpless and vulnerable look on his face as he glanced up at Qui-Gon, the hope in his eyes at Qui-Gon's promise… Obi-Wan had to admit that when it came to being pathetic, he would never stand a chance against Anakin.

The apprentice simply was no longer the hopeful young child who so desperately wanted to be Qui-Gon's apprentice, he had grown into a young man who was perfectly capable of taking care of himself – and so he was no longer interesting to Qui-Gon, he supposed. Obi-Wan had always known that one day Qui-Gon would find someone who was more pathetic than him, and at least this was a case where Qui-Gon's compassion and determined insistence were not entirely misplaced – and Obi-Wan had the tentative hope that if he wasn't that pathetic any more, maybe he would one day make a decent Knight after all.

It was not as if he didn't want to become a Knight, in fact that had been his dream since he could remember, and honestly, his long apprenticeship was becoming quite embarrassing. Most of his friends had been allowed to face the trials years ago, and Obi-Wan had silently berated himself many times for his arrogance because he couldn't help but think that he was certainly not that much worse a Jedi. Quite often, he had imagined what it would be like when his Master would finally declare him ready to take the trials. The joy and elation he had always imagined to feel were completely lacking, though, as was the proud gleam he had pictured in Qui-Gon's eyes. It seemed that Chancellor Valorum wasn't the only one to receive a vote of no confidence today. But although his Master's hurried dismissal hurt and saddened him, he made his decision in less than a second. "I am ready to face the trials," he asserted, also taking a step forwards.

Obi-Wan's tentative confidence and cautious hope that he wasn't completely useless were instantly erased once again by Yoda's words. "Our own council we will keep on who is ready."

Mace felt really bad for the unfortunate Padawan. Sure, they had agreed that the Council and all of its members would at any time do their very best to disagree with Qui-Gon and to never give in to Qui-Gon's insistent nagging, but to sacrifice the self-esteem and confidence Obi-Wan had fought so hard for on the altar of Qui-Gon's constant defiance didn't seem right. Though Mace did his best to hide it behind cold stares and disapproving frowns, down at the very bottom of his heart the intimidating Master Windu was a gentle and caring person, and he did neither support what Yoda was doing to Obi-Wan nor did Yoda's earlier actions concerning the Padawan meet his approval. They should have told him, Mace thought. We should have told him. I should have told him, at least, if nobody else had the courage to do so.

As was to be expected of the stubborn Jedi he was, Qui-Gon begged to differ.

"He is headstrong and has much to learn of the Living Force, but he is capable. There is little more he can learn from me."

Obi-Wan's heart plummeted even further at this demeaning judgement of his abilities.

If you wanted to push your redundant apprentice for trials, you would be well advised to at least say something even _remotely_ positive about said apprentice.

"Young Skywalker's fate will be decided later." Yoda wanted to get this Council session over with as quickly as possible. He felt Mace's resolve to finally tell Obi-Wan what the Council had kept silent for such a long time harden, and he didn't want the beans to be spilled prematurely. In fact, he didn't want those beans to be spilled ever. Period.

"Now is not the time for this," Mace continued. "The Senate is voting for a new Supreme Chancellor and Queen Amidala is returning home, which will put pressure on the Federation and could widen the confrontation."

"And draw out the Queen's attacker," Ki-Adi Mundi pointed out to calm the tension and soothe Qui-Gon's ruffled feathers.

"Go with the Queen to Naboo and discover the identity of this dark warrior. This is the clue we need to unravel this mystery of the Sith," Mace informed Qui-Gon of the decisions the Council had made earlier during supper.

"May the Force be with you," Yoda swiftly ended the meeting before Mace could do something Yoda would not approve of.

Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan and Anakin bowed in farewell. Obi-Wan quickly hurried out, he had a lot to think about and didn't think he could face either Qui-Gon or Anakin right now.

Qui-Gon followed, leading Anakin from the Council Chamber.

As soon as they had left the room, Yoda turned a disapproving stare at Mace.

"Tell Obi-Wan about what the Council did, you will not!" he demanded, rapping his stick on the floor for emphasis. "Know about this, he must not! Necessary, it was. Proud of it, I am not, but for the greater good, it was."

The Council stayed up long into the night, discussing Qui-Gon, Anakin, and most of all the Padawan and whether to tell him or not.

oOo

Edited on 13th February, 2011


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25**

Author's note: There's a Star Trek reference in there, and since I am really no expert (not even an amateur, I just needed some kind of well-known and Jedi-free universe) on the topic, please don't hate me if I got it wrong somehow!

Disclaimer: I really have no idea what you're talking about. Me, using George Lucas' creation without asking for permission first? I would never do that;-)

oOo

Yoda was less than thrilled that Mace had brought up the subject of Obi-Wan. It was not one he felt comfortable discussing.

"Necessary, it was," he once again emphasized. "See an acceptable alternative, we did not."

Mace sighed. "I have to admit that I can't think of any other options, either," he conceded. "Still, I cannot condone what you have done, not telling him something like that."

This worried Yoda greatly. He had to make Mace understand the reasons behind his actions, or else, he feared, the imposing Master who hid his gentle heart behind a hard exterior would do irreparable damage to Obi-Wan's trust in the Council and thus to the whole Jedi Order.

The diminutive green Master heaved a deep sigh.

"Tell you the whole story, we will. Go back much further than you think, this does. Very, very much further. Start some fourteen years ago, this did."

Mace sat back in his chair and listened intently to what Yoda revealed to him. It was a story of deceit, of truths left unspoken, of interference and prevented destinies. It was the story of Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Mace was shocked to hear Yoda tell him about a Council session almost sixteen years ago.

That day, the topic of discussion had been Qui-Gon Jinn, a most extraordinary Jedi, a skilful warrior and negotiator and a severe pain in the Council's backside. Just the week before, the peace talks between the Klingons and the Romulans had gone completely haywire. The only reasonable hope to bring continued peace to these two people had been a wedding between the heirs to both their governments, which was why they had already done just that.

As a crisis in form of a marital disagreement between the couple threatened, they called for the help of the Jedi, not because the disagreement was exceptionally severe but because there was so much at stake. The peace talks between wife and husband should have been easy; it was just a tiny argument, after all, but Qui-Gon had completely bungled up because he had abducted the couple's only child and the only existing hybrid between Klingons and Romulans, claiming that she was the Chosen One and that she had to be trained as a Jedi, thus not only enraging the heirs to the thrones of two planets but all their alliances, as well, so that all Jedi were banished from this particular part of the universe forever.

After this catastrophe brought onto them by Qui-Gon, the Jedi High Council decided that the unconventional and sometimes outright insane Jedi Master could not be allowed to continue to roam the galaxies (the ones he was still allowed to visit, anyway) unchecked.

They had a long and heated discussion about what to do with the maverick Jedi, and in the end, it had been Master Yoda who had proposed to team Qui-Gon up with a Padawan. At first, the Council had been undecided, even disinclined. They had already tried that tactic before, and to disastrous results. Xanatos had braved Qui-Gon's eccentricities for years, his sanity slowly deteriorating under Qui-Gon's constant reminder of the presence of bigger fish, but the Padawan had finally cracked when Qui-Gon, having just killed his father, answered Xanatos' inquiry about how to deal with this calamity with the words of one of his favourite and, therefore, useless and random sayings. These sayings seemed like the ultimate wisdom to Qui-Gon, and he considered them applicable to any situation imaginable. That the words: "Whatever. **Do a barrel roll**, that usually helps" would not offer the desperately needed comfort and solace to the grieving mind of a suddenly fatherless apprentice never even occurred to the admittedly weird Master.

At that, the Padawan had lost it and turned to the Dark Side for good… or maybe for bad, depending on your point of view.

So it was understandable that the Council was reluctant to lose another promising young student that way. Yoda had finally managed to convince them by making a suggestion they could not reject.

The person to become Qui-Gon's Padawan would have to meet the numerous terms the Council set as a condition to allow Yoda to implement his plan.

They would need a young Initiate with the ability to withstand Qui-Gon. That meant the child would need not only the steadfast will and courage to oppose the Jedi Master's crazy ideas, but should at the same time be obedient and respectful – otherwise, the two would quarrel constantly. Furthermore, they needed someone who also respected the Code and the Council (they really didn't want Qui-Gon to raise a carbon copy of himself), someone with a caring and kind soul and enough patience to accept Qui-Gon with all his oddities but not so compliant to give up trying to make the Master see reason. Master Jinn's new Padawan would have to be both every ounce as stubborn as his future Master and yet also willing to follow his Master's lead. Someone who had enough skill to turn out a decent Jedi despite Qui-Gon's training yet someone who would stay humble and listen to Qui-Gon's teachings without posing too many difficulties to either the Jedi Master or the Council. They wanted someone so full of light that he would never turn to the Dark Side, someone to temper Qui-Gon's impulsive Living Force with a bit of level-headed Unifying Force.

They needed a bundle of contradictions all summed up in one person.

And Yoda had found the perfect candidate for that: a promising young initiate by the name of Obi-Wan Kenobi, who satisfactorily fulfilled all of the Council's conditions.

But although Obi-Wan was eager to become a Padawan, Qui-Gon absolutely refused to even consider taking on an apprentice. So they had to keep everyone else from asking Obi-Wan to become their apprentice.

Yoda paused in his narrative.

"So that was the reason why you wouldn't let me speak for him when I was looking for a Padawan," Mace interjected. "I always wondered why you kept everyone away from the boy and would rather send him off to the agricorps then let anyone who was not Qui-Gon train him."

"Coerce Qui-Gon, we had to. Easy, it was not, but with the Force as our ally, succeed, we did. Stubborn, Master Jinn is, but more stubborn, the Force can be," Yoda stated, a smug smirk on his withered face.

"But why did you do that? It sounds incredibly unfair towards Padawan Kenobi," Mace asked.

"As Master Yoda said, it was a necessary **immolation** of Padawan Kenobi's chances of finding a Master of his choice on the pyre of the greater good. Besides, he seemed content, even glad to be Master Jinn's Padawan," Master Mundi explained. "We are not that cruel that we would have let him stay with Qui-Gon if he had been unhappy. Also, there simply was no one else willing or even capable of taking on this task, and I have to admit that Obi-Wan did an admirable job. So much so, in fact, that we were quite reluctant to split up this particular Master-Padawan team when the time came to knight him."

At this point, Yoda resumed his tale, because Obi-Wan's story was far from over. The Council had been relieved to have finally found someone capable of handling Qui-Gon, someone who could keep the rampant Master in check without turning to the Dark Side in the process, that they were completely unwilling to let Obi-Wan take the trials, no matter how many Masters came to comment on the Padawan's exceptional skills and no matter how often Qui-Gon told them that his Padawan was ready.

At some point, they could no longer ignore the situation at hand, and so they had finally knighted Obi-Wan when he was but nineteen years old.

They had also conveniently 'forgotten' to inform both the Master and the Padawan about it.

His friends had even thrown Obi-Wan a knighting party after he passed his trials. Obi-Wan still dimly remembered them as some kind of demanding but not exactly insurmountable tests, probably as the required preliminary assessments for the transition to senior Padawanhood. The young man was still puzzled as to the exact reason why all of his friends suddenly appeared in their living room to have a surprise party, even after he unmistakably informed them that it was most definitely not his birthday, and all of them were suspiciously silent on the explanation for this party. It had been quite enjoyable, nevertheless.

Yoda had calmed the Councillor's bad conscience by telling them that it was not exactly a lie as such that the Council had told Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan. It was merely a slight omission of the truth on their part.

By the time, Mace wore a nostalgic smile on his face. "Yeah, I still remember that party. It was one of the best parties in the last ten years. Shame we couldn't tell Obi-Wan it was for his knighting."

"See now, that necessary this course of action was?" Yoda asked.

"Well, yes. I can see that there was no other viable option. And I certainly wouldn't want to do Obi-Wan's job myself. I don't know anyone more suitable to babysit Qui-Gon than Obi-Wan. Splitting up the team and sending Qui-Gon out on his own is unthinkable. And to team him up with someone else now – I wouldn't wish that on anyone, and neither do we have someone suited to that particular task. No, I suppose there was no other way, and although I still don't agree with how all this turned out, I accept that there was no other possibility," Mace finally acquiesced.

The Council heaved a relieved sigh.

It seemed that finally the risk of Mace spilling the beans was banned. There was no knowing how Obi-Wan would react to that, but one thing was sure: although the young man was known to forgive just about anything up to and including secret marriages with politicians entailing children, they didn't want to alienate him. They needed him firmly on their side, especially since he was still needed to mediate between his Master and the Council, and if Qui-Gon got his will (which, unfortunately, he frequently did due to his enormous stubbornness) also between his Master, the Council and Anakin Skywalker.

In the end, Mace pushed away his qualms, silenced his bad conscience and gave a short nod. The secret would remain undisclosed. There was too much at stake.

oOo

Back on the landing platform where Queen Amidala's ship was waiting for her arrival, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan never suspected that the Council was still talking about them. The atmosphere on the landing pad was tense, filled with electricity. Obi-Wan had dared to object to Qui-Gon's intention of taking Anakin along with them. They were going to a planet that was at war, for Force's sake, and that really was no place for a young child. Besides, he still didn't quite know how he should react to Qui-Gon's casual and painful dismissal in front of the Council.

Obi-Wan was confused and hurt, though he tried his best to hide his turbulent feelings behind a mask of Jedi calmness. He didn't wish for Qui-Gon's opinion of him to become even lower than it apparently already was. Since he was still unsure how to approach his Master about the topic of his current apprentice, namely himself, he chose to talk about Qui-Gon's future apprentice.

Qui-Gon had been disgruntled and only snapped a terse order at his Padawan, effectively telling him to shut up about it. But for once, Obi-Wan didn't want to leave it alone, not this time.

"Master, Naboo is under the control of the Trade Federation. There are droids everywhere. Master, people will _die_ there. Don't you think that it would be very dangerous for a child to be dragged into the middle of a battle? He wouldn't be able to protect himself. How will you make sure that nothing happens to him? He might get hurt or even killed."

Qui-Gon frowned at the worry in his Padawan's eyes.

"Padawan, you will stop your complaints immediately. Just admit that you're jealous. You fear that Anakin will do better on Naboo than you, like blow up a whole droid control station while you only win against one single Sith, who is just an apprentice at that. Anakin will handle himself well, I assure you. Oh no, _now_ I know what this is about. You are jealous because I said I wanted Anakin as my apprentice, aren't you? Do you doubt my judgement of Anakin… of you? Do you really think I would recommend you for trials if I didn't think you weren't ready? In my opinion, you should have been knighted years ago, the last few years of your apprenticeship were as needless as they were ridiculous."

Obi-Wan didn't know what to make of that. Had it been a sort of twisted accolade, bluntly delivered in Qui-Gon's unique style? To Obi-Wan, who felt downtrodden and rejected at the moment, it rather sounded like Qui-Gon had wanted to get rid of him years ago.

"With all due respect, Master-" the Padawan addressed Qui-Gon once again.

Qui-Gon interrupted him before he could make his point.

"Just cut it out, Obi-Wan. I've had enough of your disrespect."

"It's not disrespect, Master. It's the truth," Obi-Wan persisted. "A war is a dangerous place for a child, no matter if it's your 'Chosen One' or not. And please, Master, please don't ignore my bad feeling about the boy. I'm sure there's a way we could bring his mother to Coruscant, too, and help them find a new home. That would be the best solution, I think."

"From your point of view," Qui-Gon brushed off his apprentice's protest without so much as a thought about it.

Obi-Wan's usually subtle comments had become increasingly blunt with the need to make his Master see what the Force was showing him by means of an increasingly troubling bad feeling gnawing at him. The Council's reaction had shown that he was not the only one to think that Anakin was better off anywhere but with the Jedi. "The boy is dangerous. They all sense it. Why can't you?" Why did Qui-Gon always ignore things he didn't want to see?

"His fate is uncertain. He's not dangerous," Qui-Gon insisted, throwing his apprentice a reproachful look. "The Council will decide Anakin's future. That should be enough for you. Now get on board."

Obi-Wan had to clench his hands into white-knuckled fists and bite on his tongue to keep from screaming in frustration. Disbelieve and outrage sparkled in his eyes as he studied his Master's face for traces of – he didn't really know what he was looking for. Whatever it was, though, he didn't find it and so turned around and stalked off towards the ship. He didn't believe that Qui-Gon, the constant rebel, had just told _him_, the ever obedient Padawan he usually criticized for sticking to the Code and being too conformist, to listen to the Council.

If it wouldn't be so inappropriate for a Jedi, Obi-Wan would have liked to kick something - or someone - very hard.

oOo

Anakin was fiddling with R2-D2 while Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan had their discussion. Anakin didn't know what they were talking about, but by the looks on both man's faces, he decided it must be something very serious. Qui-Gon looked annoyed and snapped at Obi-Wan, and the Padawan looked peeved and worried and also a bit sad.

Anakin didn't know what to think of all this. On the one hand, he really wanted to be a Jedi and stay near Qui-Gon whom he hero-worshiped unabashedly, on the other hand Anakin missed his mom terribly, and he was unsure whether he truly wanted to go to Naboo if there was an invasion going on there.

When Qui-Gon finally ended the discussion by ordering Obi-Wan aboard, Anakin cautiously approached him. He didn't want to draw the imposing man's ire on his poor self, so he apologized just to be on the safe side.

"Qui-Gon, sir, I don't want to be a problem," he said, putting all of his considerable patheticness into his voice and posture.

It seemed to work, because Qui-Gon kneeled down next to him and put a large warm hand reassuringly on his shoulder. "You won't be, Ani," he promised in a soothing voice. "I'm not allowed to train you so I want you to watch me and be mindful. Always remember: There is always a bigger fish. Stay close to me and you'll be safe, because I'm the biggest fish in the whole aquarium. And if you also remember to occasionally **do a barrel roll**, you should be fine," Qui-Gon added his second-most favourite saying just for good measure.

Anakin pondered Qui-Gon's words for a moment before he came to the conclusion that they were probably meant to be comforting.

"Master, sir," Anakin shyly asked, "I heard Yoda talking about midi-chlorians. I've been wondering – what are midi-chlorians?"

Qui-Gon smiled at the curious look in Anakin's face. What was it that Obi-Wan had told him earlier about cells and all that stuff? He had to admit he hadn't paid proper attention.

"Midi-chlorians are, erm… a microscopic life-form that resides within all living cells."

Yes, that sounded scientific enough, so it might actually have come from Obi-Wan.

Anakin stared disbelievingly at him. "They live inside me," he stated, sounding thoroughly convinced that Qui-Gon must have lost it to suggest something like that.

To his horror, the Jedi Master answered with a tiny chuckle: "Inside your cells, yes. And we are symbols… no, that wasn't the word… **sycophants**… not that was also wrong… symbionts – that's it! We are symbionts with them," he added, glad that he had actually remembered the word Obi-Wan had used with the Gungan boss.

"Symbionts?" Anakin inquired, obviously unfamiliar with the term.

Relieved that he had looked the meaning of the complicated word up earlier, Qui-Gon answered in his best schoolmasterly voice: "Life-forms living together for mutual advantage. Without the midi-chlorians, life could not exist and we would have no knowledge of the Force. They continually speak to us, telling us the will of the Force. When you learn to quiet your mind, you'll hear them speaking to you."

Anakin frowned worriedly. So Qui-Gon was hearing voices inside his head? That… was bad, wasn't it? But Qui-Gon sounded so positive about the whole topic. And he wanted to teach Anakin to listen to the voices inside his head? His mom had always told him that he should never obey them unquestioningly. Now Anakin was thoroughly confused.

"I don't understand."

"With time and training, Ani, you will. You will," Qui-Gon promised him, his morsel of advice becoming the cause for many a headache for Obi-Wan in the years to come, because Anakin vowed then and there to heed Qui-Gon's counsel. In the years that Anakin was his Padawan, Obi-Wan simply couldn't understand why his Padawan would unfailingly act first and think later, if ever.

Qui-Gon and Anakin were distracted by the arrival of the Queen. The young monarch and her entourage came marching towards the sleek silver spaceship, stopping in front of the Jedi Master.

"Your Majesty," Qui-Gon addressed the Queen with a bow," it is our pleasure to continue to serve and protect you against blaster bolts both ricocheting off walls or objects and aimed at you, knife attacks, bombs, verbal attacks from rowdies and dark warriors with scary tattoos and horns looking like they belonged to something escaped from a **bestiary**. I'm sorry to inform you that by contract, we are forbidden to do anything against power-hungry, deceiving Senators or Chancellors, though. Oh, and the law of the Republic compels me to inform you that we are powerless against Gungan slobber, the Corellian Killer Virus and cannot be held liable for unexpected weight gain resulting from either unexpected pregnancies (though that is highly unlikely, considering that I'm old enough to be your bigger brother) or eating orgies brought on by the lovesick and broken-hearted sadness my Padawan usually leaves behind when he makes unmistakably clear that he simply is not interested, so don't get your hopes up because I didn't mention him in the pregnancy part of the sentence."

Gertrudé, who had once again stepped in for Padmé as the Queen, gulped heavily. Beneath the white make-up, her face had taken on a rosy pink flush when Qui-Gon had mentioned pregnancies, which was quickly replaced by an embarrassed ruby red as the Jedi seemed to read her thoughts and quickly but effectively squashed her budding desire. The other handmaidens also looked quite downcast at the Master's warning, and they each decided to grab a huge bucket of ice-cream once they got back to Naboo.

"I welcome your help," the Queen finally managed to thank Qui-Gon. "Senator Palpatine fears that the Federation means to destroy me."

"I assure you I will not allow that to happen," Qui-Gon comforted her.

Initially, Qui-Gon had planned to leave Jar Jar behind on Coruscant. He had long ago replaced this particular pathetic life-form with another one, one he liked much better than the Gungan. Unfortunately, though, the Gungan had somehow been informed of their departure (Senator Palpatine had notified the Gungan, he hoped to at least annoy the Jedi if he couldn't use Jar Jar as a tool to turn them to the Dark Side) and so, after screaming an ear-splitting "Wesa gion' home!" accompanied by a jubilant somersault, he hurried on board before anyone could close the hatch to keep him out, because they were still waiting for Anakin to come aboard.

"Come on, R2," Anakin waved to the little astromech droid. Then he followed Qui-Gon and the Queen and, most important, Padmé into the ship.

oOo

Edited on 13th February, 2011


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26**

Disclaimer: It's certainly not for lack of wishful thinking…

oOo

In the Royal Palace in Theed, Nute Gunray, the Trade Federation's Viceroy, was rudely thrown out of his – well, technically Queen Amidala's – bed, which he had claimed as his own, which was well within his rights as the invader of the planet. Hastily, he threw on a robe he had found somewhere on the ground – it did, in fact, also belong to Queen Amidala, and the Neimoidian looked rather silly in the pink glittery robe adorned with frills and colourful feathers.

He yawned widely. "What is it?" he asked, still sleepy and disgruntled because his assistant had thrown him out of bed in the middle of the night and insisted he join him in the throne room at once.

"It's Lord Sidious, and he's as scary and ominous as ever, even in the middle of the night. _Especially_ in the middle of the night, if I may say so. He demands to speak with you immediately," Rune Haaku whispered urgently.

"Oh no," the Viceroy groaned. "What does he want _this_ time?"

"He says it's about his enormous accomplishments in the Senate. He says that the Republic will soon vote for a new Supreme Chancellor, one who aims for unlimited power – and allegedly looks great in black, if Lord Sidious is to be believed."

Nute Gunray quickly scuttled over to the comm. station with the spidery legs.

He pressed a button and the Sith Lord's blue and larger-than-life hologram flickered into existence. Quickly, the Viceroy bowed.

"Yes, Lord Sidious. How can I be of service?"

"Ahhh, Viceroy. Well, to be honest, I could do some help with finding a new apprentice; I fear my current one won't live for very much longer. But that's not why I called. I was just savouring my new power. I've always wanted to wake people in the middle of the night and have them bow and scrape before me. So a bit more bowing and scraping, if you please."

The Neimoidians shared a confused look followed by a resigned shrug. If the frightening Sith Lord demanded it, they would surely comply, mostly because they valued their lives more than their pride.

After about three minutes, even Sidious' blown-up ego had enough and he got to the other reason for his call.

"All right, that's enough now. Oh, why do I put up with such spineless fools as you? Ah yes, now I remember. It's because I didn't get the good-looking main characters on my side. I should have known better, I guess, than to hope for that. I only get the second-best looking character _after_ he gets all fried, because we couldn't have one of the handsome guys on the Dark Side, oh no. But never mind. What's important is unlimited power, not unlimited good looks, after all, or I would never be able to become Emperor."

Sidious sighed and mumbled a few choice curses under his breath about the unfairness of it all.

Suddenly, he grew serious and asked: "It the planet secure? I'm sending you my apprentice and don't want him slaughtered by some stray Jedi just because you don't have the situation on Naboo under control."

"We have taken over the last pockets of primitive life-forms. We are in complete control of the planet now. There's no need to worry for your dear apprentice's safety, I assure you, no need to worry at all," the Neimoidian quickly guaranteed Sidious.

"Good," the Sith rasped evilly. "I will see to it that in the Senate things stay as they are. No, wait, that's bad for me. I will see that in the Senate, things will change dramatically. Yes, that's much more to my liking. I will shake the very foundations of the Republic and turn it into something much more suited to my need for unlimited power."

Sidious cackled evilly.

"As I told you earlier, I am sending you my apprentice, Darth Maul, to join you."

"Yes, my Lord," Nute Gunray agreed, not that he had much choice in this.

As soon as Sidious' hologram had disappeared, Rune Haaku drew up one of his non-existent eyebrows questioningly.

"A Sith here?" he asked with panic in his voice. That was the last thing they had expected as they signed the pact with the Sith. They had rather expected the evil Darksiders to remain safely behind the safe positions behind the frontlines the Neimoidians usually occupied, as every good conspirator backing the leader of an invasion did.

oOo

Padmé ambled through the narrow corridors of the sleek silver cruiser. They had taken off and entered hyperspace about half an hour ago, and the only thing betraying the mind-boggling velocity at which they were hurtling through hyperspace were the soft whirring and the tiny vibrations of the ship's engines.

Padmé and all of her handmaidens – with the possible exception of Hanké, who was married, and to a woman at that – were ecstatic that the Council had decided to send the same team of Jedi with them again. They had even brought Anakin along, though Padmé doubted the wisdom of this decision.

The young Queen, who was once again in the guise of a simple handmaiden, had been looking for a certain Jedi Padawan all over the ship. She had only seen the hem of his robe whip around the corner as Obi-Wan entered the ship, but she had been unable to find him since then. She doubted that he would be in the room he shared with his Master, who was much too preoccupied with Anakin, anyway. Somehow, there was tenseness in the air and an awkwardness in the interaction (or rather the conspicuous lack thereof) between the two Jedi that had not been there before. Padmé wondered what could have happened, because despite their differences both in character and in opinions, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan had seemed rather close even when disagreeing with each other.

But something had changed between them during their short stay on Coruscant. Their relationship was no longer the same comfortable one between Master and Padawan as Padmé had come to know it.

The situation had changed. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan hadn't.

And that was the problem.

So Padmé had been searching for Obi-Wan in all his usual hideouts: the cockpit (though she had been thrown out immediately), the engine room and the storeroom. He hadn't been in any of these.

Padmé finally found him sitting in a corner of the ship's recreation room. Usually, the Padawan had avoided that room. Padmé couldn't quite understand why, because it was a pleasant room and quite popular with the handmaidens. But now, Obi-Wan sat there, cross-legged, on the floor. He wasn't meditating, that much she could tell, because his eyes were open and his shoulders ever so slightly slumped. Still, the young man didn't seem to notice her – or any of the other dozen handmaidens that had already clustered around him. And although his beautiful blue-gray eyes were open, he was staring right through them, as if he didn't see the girls or even the wall opposite him.

Although the expression on his face seemed as calm as ever, the Padawan looked lost in thought… and sad.

Padmé approached the Padawan and put a hand on his shoulder. Startled, Obi-Wan's eyes finally focused on his surroundings instead of whatever it was he had seen.

"Oh –" Obi-Wan scrambled to his feet. "Your Highness," he said, bowing hastily. Neither Padmé nor Obi-Wan noticed the slip-up.

"Why did you sit there on the floor?" Padmé asked. It was a stupid question, and she realized it, but with the Padawan looking her in the eyes, she couldn't think of anything sensible to say. In fact, she was glad that she had managed a coherent sentence at all.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to intrude," he said, looking around and seemingly noticing the bunch of handmaidens looking expectantly up at him for the first time. "Sorry," he repeated, already sounding preoccupied again and left the room to look for another dark corner where he could brood, leaving thirteen thwarted and baffled girls in his wake.

As the girls tracked him down again, though, he already sat in another corner, and his mind obviously was somewhere else again.

The handmaidens decided disappointedly that bothering the Padawan was not much fun when the only answer they got was a stare that went right through them. They had not even managed to elicit a single one of his adorable blushes. Even though the girls had enjoyed watching Obi-Wan do the most boring things, like meditating, right now it was incredibly frustrating and not a little depressing to be around the unhappy Padawan.

They tried several times more to talk to Obi-Wan, who either just sat there, eyes glazed over, and completely ignored them, or apologized, said that he hadn't wanted to intrude and moved to sit in another corner.

Padmé didn't want to give up yet, though. She consulted her handmaidens and together they came up with a plan that might just work and cheer the Padawan up – or at least snap him out of his thoughts. It was no fun at all teasing him when the young man didn't even have the grace to blush and squirm uncomfortably at their flirting.

So they withdrew and left him alone for the time being.

Obi-Wan didn't even notice.

Obi-Wan tried to make sense of all the warring thoughts and emotions inside his head. He was uncertain what to feel: sadness, relief, worry, hurt, gratitude, joy, shame and confusion all swirled inside him.

Qui-Gon Jinn had been a wonderful Master to him, despite all their differences, and Obi-Wan wouldn't exchange the time they spent together for anything. He was incredibly thankful that his Master had taken him as his apprentice, no matter how reluctant at first, and taught him all he knew. And really, he couldn't be angry at his Master for finally allowing him to take the trials. His apprenticeship had lasted much longer than was usual, anyway, and although he hadn't minded staying with Qui-Gon – he hadn't minded at all – it was time to let go and move on.

Obi-Wan couldn't even begrudge Anakin's taking over his place beside Qui-Gon, because while Qui-Gon was a demanding Master and not exactly easy to deal with, Obi-Wan knew that being allowed to share the time of the great Jedi Master was worth every single complication that being Qui-Gon's apprentice inevitably entailed. In Obi-Wan's opinion there wasn't a better teacher in the whole Jedi Order.

Still, Obi-Wan wished for a bit more consideration and a less blunt dismissal. He couldn't help but be deeply hurt by Qui-Gon's callous words in front of the Council. He also couldn't help thinking that it had possibly also been partly his fault. If the Jedi Master's patience hadn't already been tested by his Padawan, maybe he wouldn't have been as defiant in the Council Chamber as he had been and the matter could have been adjourned by a few days. If he hadn't disagreed with Qui-Gon so vehemently when it came to Anakin, maybe Qui-Gon wouldn't have seen the need to act immediately.

Anakin! The boy was also weighing heavily on Obi-Wan's mind. The young man simply couldn't dislodge that bad feeling when it came to Anakin. Sure enough, the child was no danger – yet, Obi-Wan reluctantly added. But not only did the boy pose an ominous threat, he was also indirectly threatened by the stubbornness of Qui-Gon. What should Anakin do in the middle of a battle? And Obi-Wan was certain that there would be a battle. The Trade Federation, for all its cowardice, would not relinquish its tight grasp on Naboo without a fight, in the middle of which a small, inexperienced child could be hurt or even killed all too easily.

Slowly, Obi-Wan managed to calm his thoughts enough for some much needed meditation on what had happened and how he had acted. Obi-Wan decided to apologize to his Master, because when it came down to it, despite all the bad feelings, worries or misgivings Obi-Wan held for the situation, he was still the Padawan and Qui-Gon was the Master. Although Qui-Gon had often chided him for his seemingly unquestioning obedience of the Council's verdicts, his tendency to stick closely to the Code and his focus on the Unifying Force, the Master had never taken well to criticism from his apprentice, no matter how subtle and no matter how justified.

When Obi-Wan's instincts differed with Master Qui-Gon's opinion, though, the Jedi Master would have none of it. Qui-Gon firmly believed that the Living Force was all that was worth knowing about and disregarded everyone who suggested otherwise. Of course, Qui-Gon was not always right – far from it – but Obi-Wan couldn't claim to have made no mistakes himself. And although it might seem unfair, that was the way the relationship between teacher and student worked: the Master led, the Padawan followed.

Obi-Wan reluctantly admitted that he had been wrong to quarrel with Qui-Gon. It had not been wrong to voice his concerns, even if the only answer he got were the usual platitudes of focusing on the here and now and on how there was always a bigger fish, but he should not have insisted after Qui-Gon had made clear what he intended to do. Obi-Wan decided to apologize once he finished his meditation, which would help him regain his calm centre and help him unravel the remainder of his tangled emotions.

He didn't get any further than shutting his eyes and breathing deeply twice before he felt himself being picked up by huge, strong hands and hoisted up into the air. Startled, he opened his eyes again to stare down at the floor, which was the way he was facing. He could see two enormous feet move beneath him, and they were certainly not his feet. In fact, no part of him touched the ground any more, as he had been slung unceremoniously over a broad and hard shoulder.

For a second, Obi-Wan was completely caught by surprise by this unexpected attack and seeming attempt at abduction. He called himself three kinds of fool for being so distracted and careless that someone could simply pick him up and throw him over his shoulder. That was not very worthy of a Jedi, he thought. What disturbed him most, though, was that the wide calves attached to the feet doing the walking for him were not encased in boots, as should be expected of someone who was strong enough to lift a fully grown (if not as tall as Qui-Gon) Jedi without difficulty. Instead, the huge feet wore delicate sandals, and those could only be glimpsed for short moments before disappearing again beneath a wide and elaborate frilly skirt with each step.

He had obviously been abducted by Hanké, the broad-shouldered bodybuilder who posed as one of Padmé's handmaidens.

That was definitely enough to snap Obi-Wan out of his daze. If the Queen wanted to talk to him, why didn't she just call for him? He could hardly refuse a royal order, after all.

He tapped Hanké's shoulder and asked politely if somewhat tensely to be let down because he was perfectly capable of walking all by himself, thank you very much.

Hanké just readjusted his tight grip around Obi-Wan's waist and completely ignored the Padawan's protests.

Finally, when they had arrived in the Queen's huge quarters once again, Hanké dropped Obi-Wan, who suddenly transformed from reluctant luggage to an undignified heap on the floor. The Padawan picked himself up again and straightened his clothes, trying to regain at least a bit of his bruised dignity. His cheeks were burning with embarrassment and there might have been a sparkle of indignation in his narrowed eyes. These same eyes widened in renewed shock, though, as soon as Obi-Wan got a good look at his surroundings. All the handmaidens were present, gathered behind Padmé who was dressed as the Queen for a change. They all looked at Obi-Wan, who felt distinctly uncomfortable with being the focus of attention. The setting looked entirely too familiar to the Padawan: a row of seats at the end of a long, narrow strip of deeply red carpet.

Obi-Wan almost groaned. It seemed the girls were planning to force him to watch another of their dreadful fashion shows – probably because they thought he needed cheering up when in truth he wanted to be left alone and have time to think and to sort out his thoughts and feelings. And evidently that they had somehow managed to enlist the support of Hanké.

The handmaidens were ushering him towards the chairs already. Obi-Wan stifled a sigh and jadedly sat down. Although he had never wanted to subject himself to a sequel of episode one of the Fashion Wars, there was no way to back out of this now without being impolite.

He had survived The Fashion Menace, so what was to come now?

Obi-Wan decided to suffer through it like a true Jedi.

The first part of the show the handmaidens staged for his reluctant benefit was a presentation of glittering and frilly dresses. Obi-Wan termed it Attack of the Clothes, because the garish colours of the dresses practically screamed at him and assailed his eyes.

After a short break, which, unfortunately was too short for Obi-Wan to excuse himself and flee, the girls presented some of the latest fashion from Paris - which apparently was a planet entirely dedicated to designing the most ridiculously un-wearable clothes ever – in what must definitely be the Revenge of the Haute Couture. The girls could hardly walk in some of the more outrageous creations (they could not be termed clothes with a good conscience – they looked more like particularly hideous works of art) and looked completely silly in all of them. Obi-Wan didn't know who would want to buy some of these ugly things, much less actually wear them.

The so-called highlight of the show was a creation of metallic cloth which shimmered and glittered in the glare of the spotlights. The thin reflecting fabric was spanned over a frame in the shape of a **rhombi-icosadodecahedron**, and Eritraé who had the questionable honour of wearing it completely disappeared in this monstrosity of fashion. This particular part of the show had been dubbed A New Robe, but no matter from which angle Obi-Wan got to see the strange thing, he simply couldn't recognize anything even remotely robe-like about the thing.

The longer the show was going on, the more Obi-Wan's resolve to bear it patiently wavered. Soon, his thoughts returned to Qui-Gon and Anakin and his carefully diplomatic conversation ceased. His eyes slowly became unfocused again and he spent the remaining two hours and forty-two minutes of the fashion show trying to find the appropriate words for his apology to Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan knew that he would regret it forever if he didn't resolve this latest disagreement with his Master before Qui-Gon died at the end of the movie.

oOo

Anakin sat on a bench and stared at the door that led to the Queen's quarters. He was bored. Bored and extremely miffed that Obi-Wan had been literally dragged inside when they didn't want to admit Anakin. A giggling handmaiden had told him that little boys were not allowed and would find the whole show incredibly dull, anyway.

Although Anakin begged to differ, the handmaiden had firmly told him to stay away.

The boy found it incredibly unfair that he had to sit out here, all on his own (Qui-Gon was busy knitting a pair of pink and woolly underpants and had told Anakin to occupy himself) while Obi-Wan got to enjoy whatever the girls were doing in there. It simply was not fair!

So Anakin spent the three hours he waited opposite the door planning his revenge against the Padawan. It was unacceptable that the girls were all starry-eyed about a reluctant and embarrassed young Jedi while completely ignoring him, the wondrous and incredible Anakin, the Chosen One, second only to George Lucas the Almighty.

Anakin twiddled his thumbs, an evil grin on his youthful features. His revenge would involve an old and worn pair of socks, a lace handkerchief if he could obtain one from Padmé, washing powder, a box of the Queen's makeup he had found behind a cabinet in the fresher where it had probably lain for at least three years by the smell of it, all the **laxatives** he could find in the ship's medbay and an unripe tomato as well as, for some strange reason, loud and mechanical breathing and a shiny black helmet. Now that he had decided on the components he would use, he only had to figure out exactly in what way he wanted to use them.

Anakin unscrewed the lid of the silvery box – it likely belonged to the Queen because it contained makeup the same shade of pale that her Majesty's face usually was – and sniffed its contents once again. It gave off a delightfully revolting stench. Anakin's face contorted in repulsion. "Yuck! **Raaancid**!" he muttered, disgusted and thrilled at the same time. No matter how he would put that to use, it would serve his intentions exceedingly well.

Quickly, Anakin screwed the lid back on. The stench had become almost overwhelming.

For two more minutes, Anakin had to wait before something interesting happened. Suddenly, the door swished to the Queen's quarters swished open and Obi-Wan came staggering out, seeming very much overwhelmed and his cheeks blazing a deep red. Whatever it was the handmaidens had done with him, maybe it had not been quite as enjoyable as Anakin had imagined.

Obi-Wan looked harassed and worried. He ran a hand through his short, spiky hair and shuddered once. Then, he noticed Anakin sitting on the bench. Immediately, Obi-Wan straightened and flashed Anakin a genuine if still somewhat shaky smile.

"Hi," Obi-Wan said, "what are you doing here? You are bored, aren't you?" It was barely a question.

Anakin nodded, surprised that Obi-Wan had needed nary a second to recognize his boredom, which he had thought well concealed.

"So Master Qui-Gon is knitting already?" Another nod. "You'll have to get used to that, he does it all the time. There are two major drawbacks to his admittedly rather unusual hobby: he can't bear if anyone is in his vicinity when he is absorbed in his knitting, and he usually gives the results of his favourite pastime to his Padawan, whether said Padawan actually needs it or not – never mind that Jedi wear solely the standard issue clothes. Anyway, my room is stuffed with self-knit pullovers, pants, underwear (both for men, and for some inexplicable reason, also for women) and pyjamas."

Obi-Wan stopped his narrative for a moment, his eyes twinkling with laughter and mischief. Anakin looked up at him in wide-eyed curiosity. He had never imagined that the usually quiet and serious Padawan could be so – so kind and humorous. Anakin had thought he was much too reserved and uptight and solemn for such trivial things as jokes and had probably never laughed in his whole life. The boy was about to learn that he was quite wrong concerning Obi-Wan's sense of humour, though.

At the sight of Anakin's huge, innocent eyes looking up at him, something in Obi-Wan's eyes softened and he discarded all of his concerns and earlier misgivings. The poor boy would soon have to deal with Master Qui-Gon and his numerous peculiarities. He needed all the guidance and warnings and advice on Qui-Gon he could get. It simply would not be fair to withhold all the knowledge Obi-Wan had gathered in his years as Qui-Gon's apprentice from Anakin, who would most probably soon become Qui-Gon's next Padawan.

So Obi-Wan decided to help Anakin in any way he could in dealing with his Master and push aside his own regret at the way Qui-Gon had discarded him and the obstinate bad feeling concerning the boy.

"What else does Qui-Gon do in his free time?" Anakin asked inquisitively.

Obi-Wan gladly complied with Anakin's indirect request to tell more about the enigmatic Qui-Gon Jinn.

"Master Qui-Gon is very extraordinary. He is not only an extraordinarily skilled warrior and negotiator, he is also full of wisdom that may admittedly occasionally seem weird. I'm sure you've already heard a few of his favourite sayings, like the one about bigger fish. I have no idea where that originally came from, but Master Qui-Gon says it all the time – except, of course, when there's actually a bigger fish. He is not only a Master in the Jedi arts – and knitting, of course – but he is also a master in **dactylonomy** – you should see him counting with his fingers, it's, um, indescribable – a master of expressionist dance, **onomatopoeias**, glass-blowing and fishing as well as the self-styled sovereign of some obscure little backwater planet called earth, which no one has ever heard of and if it exists, I'm pretty sure that Qui-Gon is not its ruler. He is also a master in playing the **didgeridoo**. That went so far that he made me learn how to play the bagpipes because he thought that these two would go well together. He even asked Mace to join in with his alphorn. As you can probably imagine, it sounded horrible, and the Council was there to find the source of this dreadful racket in no time. But not only his taste in music is – well, let's say questionable, at best. Don't ever let him near the kitchen if you value your life! Not only are the meals Qui-Gon prepares absolutely inedible, he also usually burns down half the kitchen along with the food. So there are two alternatives: you can either eat at the cafeteria – the food is usually adequate, and if you want something really nice you can always go to Dex's Diner – or you learn how to cook by yourself, which is what I did," Obi-Wan finished with a small smile.

"Wow, wizard!" Anakin's interest was piqued.

"Oh, talking of food: are you hungry?" Obi-Wan asked.

Anakin realized that he was in fact pretty starved. Planning one's revenge had made him quite hungry. So he nodded enthusiastically and followed Obi-Wan to the galley, deciding to postpone his revenge for just a bit and investigate the Padawan's cooking skills.

Both of them enjoyed their little chat which did not only serve to dispel Anakin's boredom and alleviate Obi-Wan's constant worrying but also made the remainder of the flight to Naboo seem not quite as endless as it had seemed a few moments ago.

oOo

Edited on 19th February, 2011


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27**

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

oOo

Once again, Anakin was bored. It seemed that life as a Jedi was not quite as interesting as he had imagined, since most of the time the only two Jedi he knew were either knitting furiously on something that looked eerily like overly large underpants (that would be Qui-Gon) or sitting around doing the daily midday meditation (Obi-Wan was sitting down again motionlessly). Since Qui-Gon didn't want to see him right now and Obi-Wan being completely silent and utterly uninteresting at the moment, Anakin decided to go somewhere else. The Padawan had promised that his meditation would only take about half an hour, so Anakin wandered off to find a more interesting occupation with which to spend the remainder of these thirty minutes.

For Anakin, that was a very long time. A very, very long time. He had managed to sit around doing nothing for no more than one minute and eighteen seconds before he got so excessively bored that he wandered off in search of something less lacklustre than an unmoving Padawan.

The girls were still busy putting away all the clothes they had shown to Obi-Wan earlier and told him they didn't need him underfoot, so Anakin finally wound up in the cockpit.

"Hey, guys," he shouted cheerfully. "What'cha doing?"

"Oh, hi!" Ric Olié, the pilot, answered good-naturedly.

Anakin looked around the cockpit, his eyes going wide with wonder.

"Wizard!" he shouted excitedly.

All those blinking buttons! He must be in heaven.

Anakin slowly approached the ship's controls, his gaze fixed on the hypnotically blinking lights. There was a bright red button that immediately caught his attention. He wondered what would happen if he pushed it. His arm was outstretched and slightly trembling with anticipation, eyes locked on the big red button that blinked so invitingly beneath the words 'fire alarm'.

His fingertips were just millimetres away from the button when the captain's hand snatched his arm away.

"Hey! Don't push that!" he chided lightly. "We don't want to start mass hysteria among the girls, now do we?"

Anakin thought that a mass hysteria would be quite amusing, and maybe one of the girls – preferably Padmé – would let him soothe her quivering fear afterwards.

But his hand was safely and also quite firmly within the pilot's grasp. With a sigh, Anakin gave up. He would push the button later, when no one was looking. No one stood between Anakin and what Anakin desired – no one! He only lacked the means to do anything about it – for now. When he was older and more powerful, no one would dare keeping him from pushing any buttons he liked, or marrying any woman he liked, or Force-choking any flunky he liked, for that matter. And should anyone have the impertinence to try, he would make sure that this would never ever happen again. In his mind, he could already see the pathetic groveling fools, choking and gurgling at his feet, their terror feeding his sense of superiority that would be completely out of proportion by then.

The pilot's voice abruptly interrupted his reverie.

"I've heard you are quite the pilot, yourself. You took part in a podrace?" Ric Olié sounded pretty impressed.

Anakin took this as a cue to launch a long and embellished tale about his heroic triumph at the Boonta Eve Race.

Twenty minutes later, Anakin finished his story with the words: "… and than WHAM! and BANG! and also a bit or VROOOM! and – but I digress. I was so wonderfully great that I just had to come in first, the others were not even a real challenge, not for a genius such as me."

The pilots were not entirely sure what to make of this.

But Anakin already had that fixed gaze again that meant that he would soon start pressing buttons. The pilot fumbled for something to distract him with.

"Hey, Anakin… um, would you like me to show you the controls of the ship?"

Anakin's face lit up with joy. "Yeah, that'd be wizard!"

"Ok, so this here is the steering device. The board computer there and one of the most important buttons here: it calls for the flight attendants. Well, we don't have any flight attendants on this flight, which is a real pity if you ask me. But usually there are about five or six of these attractive women on board with their neat outfits and their ever-smiling faces. Usually they serve the passengers, but sometimes they also bring a nice drink to us hard-working pilots."

The pilot smiled lewdly, although Anakin was still too young and inexperienced to correctly identify the expression. Thus, the boy didn't seem exactly impressed.

"Those are the forward stabilizers," Ric Olié further elaborated.

"And those two control the pitch?" Anakin asked, pointing at the cigarette lighters, which were a relic of a time when not all the flights were non-smoking flights.

The pilot snickered, but looking into Anakin's eager eyes, he simply didn't have the heart to tell the boy just how wrong his guess was. So instead, he simply smiled at the boy and even applauded him: "You catch on pretty quick."

He was rewarded with a brilliant smile from the bright-eyed boy sitting next to him.

oOo

Qui-Gon was annoyed. He had explicitly demanded that nobody interrupt him while he was knitting or else he would lose his concentration. Knitting was so much more difficult and needed infinitely more focus than meditating. And now, he had somehow messed up the intricate knitting pattern and the whole thing looked lopsided and not nice at all. So why was someone knocking – no, banging on his door?

He tried to ignore it. The banging did not stop.

Finally, the last shards of his concentration shattered, he stood up and walked over to the door. It opened with the usual silent swish, which seemed unsatisfactorily quiet and definitely not fitting his present mood. He would much rather have pulled it open in one furious jerk, with creaking hinges and a loud bang as it hit the wall. That would have felt so much better.

Qui-Gon glared at the unfortunate fool who dared disturb his knitting. His scowl deepened even further when he noticed that the person standing outside his room was Obi-Wan, who should have known better.

"What is the meaning of this, Obi-Wan?" he demanded, still glowering fiercely down at Obi-Wan, who looked as mortified as was acceptable for any self-respecting Jedi Padawan.

Not good enough.

"You **scamp**! How often did I tell you to leave me alone when I'm knitting?"

"I'm truly sorry, Master, I really am," Obi-Wan apologized, wishing that his Master would not call him by his name but by his title – one he would not bear for very much longer.

"And damn well you should be," Qui-Gon seethed. The only time the usually calm and unflappable Jedi Master could be seen seething was when his knitting was disturbed.

"Please forgive me, Master," Obi-Wan repeated. "The Queen summoned us about fifteen minutes ago. Her Highness wanted to discuss her plans for our arrival on Naboo – it's some kind of tactical meeting."

Obi-Wan had hoped that maybe this conversation might eventually lead to the apology he had planned, but unfortunately Qui-Gon didn't seem to be in an especially benevolent mood at the moment – Obi-Wan decided to postpone the request for forgiveness for just a bit longer.

"If the Queen summoned us fifteen minutes ago, why are we not in the throne room yet? It is unseemly to let a monarch wait, Padawan!" Qui-Gon obviously didn't feel like being fair instead of disgruntled at the moment.

Obi-Wan swallowed a cynical retort and instead apologized once again. With the way things were at the moment and with Qui-Gon going to die soon, the last thing Obi-Wan wanted was yet another disagreement with his Master. Besides, Qui-Gon had called him Padawan, and he had done so in exactly the same exasperated voice he had used so many times before – and Obi-Wan was incredibly grateful for that rebuke.

"And will you please stop apologizing," Qui-Gon snapped.

Obi-Wan sighed and then silently followed Qui-Gon, walking at the traditional distance behind the Master, glad to follow for a little time longer.

Qui-Gon walked into the makeshift throne room. The Queen, who had changed her clothes for what must be the hundredth time that day, already sat on her throne. Obi-Wan looked stubbornly down on the floor, he feared what would happen if he looked at any of the girls for too long. He stayed at the back of the room and let Qui-Gon handle the discussion with the girls.

Jar Jar stood even further back, trying to hide behind the Padawan and failing miserably because the Gungan was about half a meter taller than the young Jedi.

"I want to return to the Palace as soon as possible," the Queen said. "I am deeply worried for my clothes."

"I don't think that this is a good idea, your Highness," Captain Panaka disagreed. "The palace is occupied by a whole army of droids and you are probably Naboo's most wanted person. As soon as we land, the Federation will arrest you and force you to sign the treaty. This is the way they work: They cooperate with a telephone company and force everyone to sign one of their devious mobile phone contracts – one of the kind you'll be stuck with for the rest of your life and where the phone bills are all confusing and you end up paying for a lot of things you never even wanted in the first place. And may I remind you, Your Highness, that we already failed to pay our last phone bill for the comm. calls in the palace."

"I agree," Qui-Gon agreed.

Although Qui-Gon's face was inscrutable, Obi-Wan had to suppress a grin. Qui-Gon could so readily agree with the Captain because he knew exactly what Panaka was talking about. During a mission to Cato Neimoidia some three months ago, Qui-Gon himself had signed one of these contracts and had been trying to get out of it ever since. It was so deviously formulated, though, that not even the Jedi Order's legal representative had been able to find a loophole yet. The Jedi Master had no other choice but to pay the outrageous phone bills for the short remainder of his life.

"I'm not sure what you wish to accomplish by this," Qui-Gon continued.

The Queen's plan seemed very impulsive and reckless. It seemed no one had thought this through to the end – it didn't even seem to have been halfway planned.

"I will take back what's ours," the Queen stubbornly insisted. "I want the clothes back! I want them! I want them! I want them! I want them!" She seemed very agitated and stamped her foot in time with her demands.

Obviously, Her Royal Highness had not an inkling of how bad their situation really was.

"There are too few of us, Your Highness," Captain Panaka reminded her. "We have no army! The Trade Federation, on the other hand, does. That clearly gives them the advantage."

Panaka tried to make it as easy to understand as possible, like explaining to a child why it was ill-advised indeed to fan the flames of a wrathful Wookie's ire or why one should never shake hands with a treacherous Sith Lord.

"Yes. You only have, how many, three pilots and fifteen handmaidens? And the Trade Federation's army encompasses thousands of droids. That's at least that many…" Qui-Gon informed her, demonstrating everyone present exactly how many droids that were with his fingers.

"And I can only protect you. I can't fight a war for you," Qui-Gon finished.

It seemed Qui-Gon was still angry at his Padawan, because he made Obi-Wan feel ignored and slighted. Here he stood two steps behind his Master, who acted as if his apprentice weren't right there. Sometimes, Obi-Wan hoped that his Master would occasionally apologize, too, and not always leave it up to him to make things right between them. He frowned unhappily, wishing for a private conversation with Qui-Gon so that this wall of uncomfortable reticence that had sprung up between them in the Council Chamber could be torn down again. It seemed that Qui-Gon had not forgiven him yet, so that his presence would remain unacknowledged for now.

Padmé didn't seem impressed by the Trade Federation's army at all.

She looked at Obi-Wan for a very long moment, wondering why he couldn't fight the war for her – and preferably also do a number of other things for her - before her eyes shifted to the person standing behind the young Jedi.

"Jar Jar Binks!" she said in her droning royal voice.

The Gungan jumped and then leaned over to look past Obi-Wan, although that didn't make a lot of difference because he could look over the Padawan's head without any trouble at all.

"Mesa, Your Highness?" he squeaked.

"Yes. I need your help," Padmé said.

Obi-Wan could see where this was headed. On the one hand, he felt stupid because he hadn't thought of the Gungans at all. True, he had been more than just a bit preoccupied lately, but the Gungans and their possible plight had not crossed his mind even once – and neither had the possibility Padmé was clearly thinking of. Then again, knowing Jar Jar, he didn't have much confidence in the Queen's plan, not if the Gungans were even remotely like their cognitively challenged travel companion.

The Queen spent the rest of the journey to Naboo trying to get Jar Jar to understand her clever idea, to get Captain Panaka to agree to her incongruous plan and to stop Qui-Gon from counting on his fingers precisely just how many droids there were in the Trade Federation's army. The handmaidens spent the meeting staring at Obi-Wan, and the Padawan fretted over the situation in general and Qui-Gon's behaviour towards the person who was still his Padawan, for Force's sake, even if it wasn't to be for very much longer in particular.

Qui-Gon exited the improvised throne room. He didn't know whether to laugh or to cry at the Queen's naïve ideas. As if the Gungans could help anyone! He had seen them; he had even talked to them. What did the Queen think they could do, slobber the droids to death? Well, talk them to death, more likely. Qui-Gon knew that he would drop dead if he'd have to listen to a Gungan for more than half a minute. Thankfully, he still had his Padawan, who would usually take over once Qui-Gon lost interest.

Qui-Gon frowned. He had just remembered that Obi-Wan wouldn't be his apprentice for very much longer – he wondered if he could make Anakin take care of his foundlings, and if he would have to take care of Anakin's foundlings in return, should the boy pick any up. Suddenly, he realized that he would have to teach Anakin to do all the things that up to now used to be Obi-Wan's chores – and that the time when these tasks were fulfilled efficiently and silently would soon be over.

With that unpleasant prospect in mind, he stomped off towards his room to stuff his knitting equipment back into his small travel bag. It would not do to leave this almost finished masterpiece on the Queen's ship.

A soft voice stopped him.

"Master, I wondered – could I please talk to you for a minute?"

"Oh, you're still there? You are still there!" Qui-Gon said, sounding a bit startled. He had been so engrossed in his visions of future misery and bad food and his future apprentice that he had completely forgotten about his current apprentice. He was quite delighted to discover that Obi-Wan was still there, two steps behind and one to the side, as he had always been.

Obi-Wan frowned, unsure of what his Master was trying to say with that.

"Of course I'm still here, Master. Where else should I be?" he asked, confused.

"Oh, never mind. What were you saying, Pada-"

"QUIIIIIIIIII-GOOOOOON!" Anakin screamed, running towards the tall Jedi and hugging his legs, because that was as far up as he could reach.

"Hello, Anakin," Qui-Gon beamed. He reached down to ruffle the boy's hair, smiling gently at Anakin. "So how are you doing? What have you been up to all this time?"

Obi-Wan noticed the way Qui-Gon's eyes sparkled with delight when Anakin came flying down the corridor. It seemed the boy had chased away the gloomy thoughts Obi-Wan had picked up just moments ago coming along the bond he shared with Qui-Gon.

Deciding that he was just intruding and didn't want to interrupt the happy bonding between the sole two members of what would doubtlessly soon be Jedi Orders most famous Master-Padawan team, Obi-Wan sighed softly once, glancing wistfully at Qui-Gon and Anakin, and left the two of them alone.

oOo

The Padawan walked towards the cockpit, skilfully dodging two or three handmaidens on the way there – he had gotten quite good at that, with all the practise he had been getting.

Just as he arrived at the door to the cockpit, the sleek silver ship left hyperspace with a lurch and a shiver that made the floor vibrate under Obi-Wan's boots. Obi-Wan opened the door and entered the cockpit. Off in the distance, looking no bigger than a perfectly round egg (if any such oddity existed), Naboo hung in the nothingness of space without any apparent means of support. Obi-Wan always marveled how the forces of nature (and the forces of the Force) worked together to keep a planet from simply crashing down from the place where it had been hung up in the endless folds of black space uncountable eternities ago – at how everything in this whole universe worked together so flawlessly to create something as intricate and complex and wonderful and mindbogglingly defying comprehension as life.

Then, he noticed that the only other thing hanging there next to Naboo was one single, tiny control ship that looked as if someone had cut off the string with which it was supposed to be attached to the ceiling amid many similar ones – only there was no ceiling. And no other spaceships. The whole fleet, the armada that had surrounded Naboo when they had last seen it disappearing in the distance, was gone. All that was left was one single measly little battle station. It seemed the Trade Federation was not particularly concerned with the possibility of someone deciding to oust their army from Naboo – which would not be such a huge feat, seeing as they would only have to attack one single ship to deactivate the whole army.

Obi-Wan didn't think that the Trade Federation would be that stupid and careless, otherwise they couldn't possibly have amassed as much money and gained as much political influence as they had.

He went over to the pilot, who confirmed that the viceroy must apparently be even more lackadaisical the Padawan could have thought possible: "I have one battle ship on my scope," he announced. So no sneaky little ambush hiding behind the planet where they couldn't see it, either.

"It's a droid control ship." Obi-Wan was back to pointing out the obvious. It was a pretty **gratuitous** thing to do, but it was one of Obi-Wan's most successful strategies in dealing with people: no one could possibly disagree with the obvious after all – at least that's what he thought before Anakin became his Padawan. It is a well-known fact that Masters learn as much from their Padawans as the other way around. In his time as Anakin's Master, Obi-Wan learned from his apprentice that it was indeed not only possible to disagree with the obvious, but also to blatantly deny it even when faced with undeniable facts – and somehow still get away with it.

"They've probably spotted us," Captain Panaka sharply concluded.

"We haven't much time." Obi-Wan told no one in particular, just in case the precariousness of their situation hadn't registered with everyone in the cockpit yet.

Although landing the ship wasn't exactly all that complicated, there was one thing worth noting about it: the gleaming vessel flew over a lushly green and quite dense forest. Obviously the pilots were looking for an adequate landing site, but there was no clearing in sight that would accommodate the spaceship. So instead of finding one, the pilots just lowered their craft and it simply disappeared in a space where there was no way a ship that size could land without crushing a good dozen trees in the progress. Still, somehow, they did just that.

The engines came to a stop with a quiet whine, the ramp hissed as it was extended and then settled down on the moist, springy ground of the swampy side of Naboo. Qui-Gon was the first to rush out. He walked a short distance away from the ship and then stood still, enjoying the way the Living Force swirled around him and the hundreds of trees, the thousands of smaller plants, the millions of tiny insects, the bazillions of microbial life forms. For a few minutes, he was utterly lost in the colourful whirl that was life, while Obi-Wan took care of more practical matters.

"Anakin, please remember to use the fresher before we leave the ship. We don't know what this day will bring, and we want to be prepared, don't we?" Obi-Wan sent Anakin off with a friendly wave of his hand.

"Aye, sir!" Anakin shouted back, mock-saluting Obi-Wan, and dashed off to use the fresher. He was extremely excited at the prospect of his first real mission as an almost-Jedi. This was going to be great!

Obi-Wan watched the boy leave with a slight smile on his face before he turned to the inevitable bunch of handmaidens that had once again gathered behind him. His expression became stern again as he resolutely told them that no matter what fashion dictated, they would _not_ walk through the forest on stilettos. Pouting, the girls left to exchange their beautiful and expensive shoes for much duller and infinitely more practical ones.

Turning around, his eyes searching for Qui-Gon, who must be around somewhere staring into the foliage or maybe into a pond, becoming intoxicated with the magnificence of the Living Force if the bond informed him right, Obi-Wan spotted Jar Jar leaning against a tree.

"Hi, Jar Jar," Obi-Wan approached the Gungan. "What are you doing?"

"Mesa just standin' here, watchin' da hustle an da bustle of all thesen people dis… disem… disemb… getten off da ship," Jar Jar finally finished.

Obi-Wan stood next to him for a moment, looking at what so transfixed Jar Jar.

"Yes, very interesting," he conceded, "but haven't you forgotten something?"

The Gungan only answered with a wide-eyed and undeniably dim-witted stare directed at a point just slightly above Obi-Wan's left ear.

Taking a step to the left so that he could catch the Gungan's eyes with his own – to make sure his message was getting through – Obi-Wan reminded him: "The Queen asked for your help, remember? You promised her to talk to your boss, ask for the help of the Gungans."

One could practically see how the recollection of a conversation that had taken place not half an hour ago returned to Jar Jar's yellow eyes, where it lit a spark of realization. "Oooooh, yes! Yousa right!" Jar Jar sounded thrilled at that, for what reason, Obi-Wan couldn't fathom.

The Gungan quickly hugged a very surprised Padawan before he ambled right past Qui-Gon and with an impressive somersault disappeared into the murky depth of the lake.

Slowly, Obi-Wan walked over to Qui-Gon. He didn't quite know what to say, how to broach the subject of Anakin and their whole awkward situation – so he chose not to.

"Jar Jar is on his way to the Gungan city, Master," he informed Qui-Gon. Maybe that was not the most intelligent thing to say, as it was pretty obvious that Jar Jar had just disappeared in the lake with a noisy splash, but at least Qui-Gon could not argue with it.

In fact, he barely reacted to it.

"Good," he said absently, not even bothering to look at his Padawan.

Obi-Wan was not discouraged by his Master's rather cold manner – and he knew his Master too well to give up so easily. Granted, Qui-Gon could be exasperatingly stubborn, but so could Obi-Wan, should he choose to.

"Do you think the Queen's idea will work?" he asked his Master, the picture of a devoted and respectful Padawan. Obi-Wan wanted to avoid further disagreements at all costs, and that meant being extremely careful around his Master who would sometimes take offence at the weirdest things. So the Padawan would have to be on his best behaviour for the next few days if he didn't want to strain his relationship with Qui-Gon any further.

"The Gungans will not be easily swayed," Qui-Gon assessed the situation. Finally, he turned around and looked at Obi-Wan. "And we cannot use our power to help her," he said, half full of regret that he couldn't use a few mind tricks and half as if he wanted to accuse Obi-Wan of planning to do exactly that and to rebuke him for it.

Qui-Gon proved obstinately oblivious to his Padawan's subtler preludes to apology.

Obi-Wan decided it was time to be a bit less subtle, then.

"I'm sorry for my behaviour, Master," he said quietly, looking down ashamedly and apologetically. "It's not my place to disagree with you about the boy."

His eyes flickered up to meet Qui-Gon's, who had finally managed to tear his gaze from the compelling play of light on foliage. It seemed Qui-Gon would only look upon his errant apprentice after said apprentice had apologized for something that hadn't even been childish wilfulness but reasonable doubt expressed in Obi-Wan's usual polite and respectful way. But of course, the mere notion that the great Master Qui-Gon might have erred was completely inconceivable, and thus it simply could not be true. It would probably end with Qui-Gon placing the blame for this rift between the Master and the apprentice on his Padawan – as he usually did with just about anything.

"And I am grateful you think I am ready to take the trials."

Obi-Wan tried a tentative smile, and was glad that he managed to draw one from his Master in response.

He really was grateful that someone had finally brought up this particular subject with the Council – at times he had feared he would become famous as the oldest apprentice in the history of the Jedi Temple.

Qui-Gon's answer was completely unexpected.

"You've been a good apprentice, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon quietly said, putting a warm and heavy hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder, "and you're a much wiser man than I am. I foresee you will become a great Jedi Knight."

Obi-Wan was completely baffled. Wide eyes stared up at Qui-Gon, confusion, surprise and joy written on Obi-Wan's face in equal measures. Qui-Gon's sudden kindness when he had anticipated another sharp rebuke because he had not though to remember bigger fish or some such nonsense came absolutely unexpected – but was not in the least unwelcome.

The warm pride that glowed in Qui-Gon's eyes as he gave Obi-Wan that gentle smile made up for all the troubles he had recently had with his often insensitive and eternally stubborn Master.

And Qui-Gon had said that he thought Obi-Wan was a much wiser man than him – which was a blatant contradiction to the Jedi Master's behaviour. More often than not, he simply chose to disregard Obi-Wan's opinions or even to completely **discerp** them with his words.

As for the last sentence, that Qui-Gon foresaw Obi-Wan becoming a great Jedi Knight – well, Qui-Gon was not exactly renowned for his ability to foresee things, with his strength almost exclusively with the Living Force, and his visions were highly unreliable.

Still, it felt nice to hear the words from Qui-Gon, anyway.

While Obi-Wan remained standing at the shore, for once lost in somewhat of a happy daze instead of his usual anxious concerns, Qui-Gon wandered off to tell everyone he met that he foresaw them becoming great handmaidens/pilots/captains/queens/trees, depending on whom he was talking to, and he told them that he will grant them three wishes because he couldn't imagine that his name was Qui-Gon **Djinn** for nothing. The handmaidens eagerly perked up at that, but they soon lost interest once Qui-Gon told them about the limits of his ability to fulfil wishes: apparently, death and love were out of bounds. It seemed the Living Force had been a bit more intoxicating than even Obi-Wan had suspected.

Fortunately, Obi-Wan didn't hear that, or else it would have dealt a lethal blow to his good mood.

oOo

Edited on 20th February, 2011


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28**

Disclaimer: Roses are red, violets are blue, if you mistake me for George Lucas you must be pretty unintelligent.

oOo

It took Jar Jar much longer than expected to find the underwater city of the Gungans. Qui-Gon, Anakin, Obi-Wan, Captain Panaka and a few of the inevitable handmaidens were all standing near the spot where Jar Jar vanished into the murky water, waiting with varying degrees of patience. Anakin was the first to wander off. He had spotted an unused and dusty device in the ship's common room that looked like it might actually be a video game. Anakin loved video games, and he was very good at them, as he had already proven with his smashing result in the Boonta Eve race.

The handmaidens followed him into the ship soon after. They were bothered by the myriads of insects that greedily assaulted any exposed skin they could spot. They didn't have the Force to convince the tiny but extremely irritating bloodsuckers that the blood of young girls must surely taste much sweeter than that of Jedi Padawans. Although he did feel slightly bad about this rather inappropriate use of the Force, this way Obi-Wan managed to get rid of two pests at once.

Not for long, though. The whole royal entourage joined them again some time later, equipped with insect repellents. Anakin also joined them soon after thoroughly dismantling what had not been a video game at all. He had tried to find out why it wouldn't work and why the only thing it did was produce this foul-tasting hot brown liquid when he wanted to play with it. Convinced that he could fix anything, he had completely disassembled the Queen's coffee machine in trying to get it to cooperate. When he had completely taken the thing apart he decided to check on Padmé and joined the Queen and her entourage outside. Queen Amidala had exchanged her heavy and cumbersome robe for something that looked a little more practical if no more comfortable. Her hair was done up in a sculpture sticking out of her head like two big horns – or like the emblem of the USS Enterprise.

The bright afternoon sun had already disappeared behind dark clouds and mist was rising from the swamp as Jar Jar finally re-emerged.

"Desa nobody dare! The Gungan city is deserted," Jar Jar told them without preamble. "Some kinda fight, mesa tinks."

_Ooh, it can think? How unexpected_, Anakin thought. Something along these lines was also going through Obi-Wan's head, and doubtlessly through the pretty little heads of the handmaidens.

Although Obi-Wan would probably never become a huge fan of the Gungans as a whole and Jar Jar in particular, he didn't want them suffering for a war that was not theirs – at least not yet theirs, but that might change if the Queen's plan worked.

"Do you think they have been taken to the camps?" he asked worriedly.

"More likely they were wiped out," Panaka bluntly corrected him, rolling his eyes at the Padawan's remark. Although Obi-Wan often wished the universe weren't so cruel, he had to admit that the Captain was probably right. Although he was in general a rather kind person with seemingly endless patience, even he sometimes felt like strangling Jar Jar. So it was very likely that the Trade Federation would certainly kill them without so much as blinking an eye – not that their droids could actually blink their eyes, anyway.

Jar Jar surprised everyone by saying: "Mesa no tink so."

"Do you know where they are, Jar Jar? Maybe I can return you and get a refund. I don't think you are as advertised. Besides, you're both the wrong size and the wrong colour. I expressly ordered mauve, didn't I, Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon asked.

"Um, actually, Master, that's your new boots you are talking about. And I don't think you will get a refund for returning Jar Jar, although you should certainly hold on to the thought of saying goodbye to him," Obi-Wan quietly informed his Master.

"Ah, yes, now I remember. Thanks Padawan, you are correct, of course, as always. But I would still like to know where the Gungans have gone," Qui-Gon added with a questioning glance at Jar Jar.

"When in trouble, Gungans go to sacred place called **Eden**. There, wesa hide. Sacred place cannot be found easily. Is not only sacred but also secret. Mesa show you! Come on! Mesa show you!" Jar Jar volunteered, this time without any threats from Obi-Wan.

Jar Jar gestured for them to follow and quickly walked off.

Obi-Wan still doubted Jar Jar's navigational skills after their initial experience in Theed where the Gungan had led them in circles. Still, Jar Jar seemed quite confident in his choice of direction, so the Padawan just shrugged and followed his Master, who was already catching up with their current navigator. He just wondered why the Gungan was so willing to lead them to a secret sacred place when the Gungans were quite obviously **xenophobic**, judging by the way they had welcomed the Jedi the last time around, and evidently didn't wish to be found.

Naturally, Obi-Wan's bad feeling about Jar Jar's sense of direction was right, much to everyone's exasperation. The Gungan suddenly stopped in mid-step, causing everyone to stop and Anakin to bump into Qui-Gon because the boy had been too distracted by Padmé, who was walking somewhere off to his left, talking to some other handmaiden.

Jar Jar looked around confusedly, looking this way and that, clearly having no idea either where he was or which way the sacred place lay.

"Mesa have no idea where wesa are," he finally admitted remorsefully.

Captain Panaka groaned loudly. It seemed that whenever he left the decision-making to that Jedi Master, things seemed to inevitably go wrong. Before he could voice his reservations about Qui-Gon's qualities as a leader, though, said Jedi already arranged for a team to go and find the hidden sacred place while the Queen and her entourage should stay where they were, protected by the pilots and Captain Panaka.

"Your Highness, you should stay here with your handmaidens. The pilots and you, Captain Panaka, can protect you. I don't expect anything more dangerous than a few **aphids** to come across you around here. Just stay away from the more marshy areas, do a barrel roll if necessary, don't attract undue attention and you should be fine. Obi-Wan, Anakin, you come with me."

And with that, Qui-Gon marched off, expecting his Padawan and Anakin to follow.

Anakin quickly rushed after the Jedi Master, intent on not missing even the tiniest part of this incredible adventure he had somehow stumbled into. Obi-Wan followed after, and protested as soon as they were out of hearing distance.

"Master, do you consider it wise to bring Anakin along? We might run into droid scouts, and even if we don't I think this is much too dangerous for an untrained child."

Anakin glared at the Padawan and was about to protest – there was no way he would stay behind when Qui-Gon had allowed him to come along – when Qui-Gon beat him to it.

"Nonesense, Obi-Wan. Naboo is generally a peaceful planet, except when there's the occasional invasion of the Trade Federation's droid army. And besides, what are a few spindly droids against a seasoned Jedi Master? You worry too much, Obi-Wan. This will be a valuable first lesson for Anakin. Besides, he's the Chosen One, so what should happen to him? No, he will come along, whether you like it or not."

Decision made, Qui-Gon stalked off.

Obi-Wan sent Anakin an apologetic glance and followed Qui-Gon.

"But, Master…"

Anakin eagerly jogged after Qui-Gon, trying to keep up with the Jedi Master's long strides.

For fifteen minutes, they walked in silence: Anakin next to Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan a few paces behind. So far, Anakin had managed to keep up with Qui-Gon's long strides. His excited chattering had ceased after the argument between Master and Padawan, and the small group walked in tense silence.

In front of Qui-Gon, the trees and the mist parted to reveal the calm and dark surface of a huge lake. Qui-Gon's steps never slowed as he started wading into the cold water, but Anakin's slowly faltered and he came to stand right at the edge of the lake.

Obi-Wan came to stand next to Anakin. He was surprised when suddenly a small and clammy hand tightly gripped his.

"Master?" Obi-Wan called to Qui-Gon. "Master, please wait. Mas-"

Qui-Gon, tired of listening to his student's objections, simply took out his rebreather and dived into the lake.

Obi-Wan sighed. Qui-Gon had simply brushed all his arguments aside and insisted that Anakin would be fine. But that seemed not to be the case at all.

For all his conviction, Qui-Gon had forgotten quite a few important things concerning Anakin.

"You don't know how to swim, do you?" Obi-Wan quietly asked Anakin.

The boy nodded slowly, eyes still fixed on the lake. He looked terrified.

Obi-Wan mused that the most water Anakin had ever seen in one place had probably never been more than one small puddle at most.

Qui-Gon, of course, had completely failed to realize that, seeing as he only ever lived in the moment.

Obi-Wan sighed once again. This was _exactly_ what he had meant when he had argued against bringing Anakin along.

Seeing Anakin's frightened face, he crouched down next to the boy.

"Don't worry, Anakin, it's only water. I know that you have never seen this much water before, and I know that you can't swim. But since Master Qui-Gon is adamant about taking you along, you will be cared for. See, this is why I wanted you to stay with the Queen," he explained, "and with Padmé," he added with a slight wink. "I said that not because I don't like you but because I think that we'll have to teach you the basics before we drag you along into dangerous situations."

Anakin was relieved. What had Qui-Gon expected him to do, walk on the water?

"I'm not the **Messiah**, you know," he suddenly said, "I can't just walk over water… can I? After all, Qui-Gon said I was the Chosen One…"

Carefully, Anakin placed one foot on the murky water and put his weight on it. When it sank into the muddy ground with a loud _squish_ he shuddered and quickly took a step back. The water had grabbed at his foot, he was sure of it. It had tried to take hold of him and to pull him down into its gloomy depths and devour him.

Obi-Wan sensed his panic and tried to reassure him. He had little to no experience in dealing with children, Qui-Gon usually was much better in putting them at ease than he was, but unfortunately, Qui-Gon was not only elsewhere, he was also the cause for Anakin's consternation, if indirectly.

"Anakin, I'm afraid we'll have to go into that lake if we want to follow Master Qui-Gon. But don't worry, nothing will happen to you, I promise."

Anakin was greatly relieved at Obi-Wan's promise. He didn't know how, but something told him that he could trust the Padawan and that Obi-Wan would always keep his promises.

Anakin nodded bravely and clasped Obi-Wan's hand a bit tighter.

"You see, the water is really quite harmless," Obi-Wan encouraged Anakin.

"Um, but, Obi-Wan, I still can't swim," Anakin reminded Obi-Wan.

"Yes, I have not forgotten about that." Obi-Wan took something from his belt and gave it to Anakin. "This is a rebreather. With this, you can even breathe under water. You will probably not need it since we will only swim and not dive like Master Qui-Gon unless we are attacked, but maybe it helps to calm you a bit."

Anakin gratefully took the strange little device. Although he found the idea of needing a machine to breathe extremely creepy, he appreciated the offer.

"Thanks," he said, smiling up at Obi-Wan. His heart lightened a bit more when he received a small smile in return.

Obi-Wan took Anakin on his back and told him to hold on tight. Slowly, he waded into the lake and started swimming.

Anakin was nervous. The water gurgled and lapped at him menacingly. Obi-Wan seemed not in the least bit afraid, though. He swam in strong, steady strokes, creating ripples on the smooth and calm surface of the water. Still, Anakin tightened his grip around Obi-Wan's neck and warily eyed the water around him expecting it to try and drag him into its depths. He became even more worried when Obi-Wan's breathing turned from almost inaudible and steady to laboured.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan said, his voice sounding strangled and breathless.

Anakin panicked. What was the matter?

"Anakin," Obi-Wan repeated, "Anakin, you have to loosen your grip a bit. You're strangling me."

Suddenly, Anakin realized just how tightly he had wrapped his arms around Obi-Wan's neck and relaxed his tight hold.

"Sorry," Anakin mumbled.

"It's all right," Obi-Wan said, still panting a bit but fine otherwise. "Though if you continue like that, I fear that someday you are going to be the death of me," he joked.

Anakin chuckled slightly. "Oh yeah, sure. Qui-Gon disagreed with me when I said it, but I still think that no one can kill a Jedi."

Obi-Wan thought about this for a moment. He would have to point this potentially dangerous conviction out to Qui-Gon later, but right now he didn't want to frighten Anakin any more.

Anakin chewed a bit on his lip, hesitating, before he dared ask: "When I become a Jedi, I want to learn how to swim like that, too. Will you teach me how to use the Force so that the water won't swallow me?"

Obi-Wan chuckled. "There's no use of the Force involved in swimming. It's really a very common skill, and every Jedi learns how to do it. Almost everyone learns how to do it, in fact."

Anakin was deeply impressed. "You don't need the Force for swimming?"

"No, you don't. It's not all that hard. I learned how to swim when I was quite young, about three years old or so. That is because I have a friend back at the Jedi Temple whose natural habitat is in the water. She is a Mon Calamari, and her home planet is entirely covered in water. She taught me how to swim, and she can swim circles around everyone else I know. I'm sure you'll like her, she is one of the gentlest beings I know, and she will surely teach you a few tricks if you ask her nicely."

Anakin's eyes went wide. He couldn't imagine living in the water, much less a whole planet covered in water. He still had trouble with grasping the amount of water here on Naboo and only managed to accept slowly that there was seemingly a lot more water in the Galaxy than he had ever imagined. Of course his mother had told him that there were such things as lakes, but Anakin had never quite believed her. He had not been able to imagine this much water. But his mother had also told him about things like planets covered in ice where there was a strange phenomenon called **aurora** borealis, and that was something that just had to have been a fairytale. Anakin supposed his Mom had just been trying to **accumbularate** him.

Obi-Wan managed to further distract Anakin from his fears by telling him a bit about Qui-Gon.

"Master Qui-Gon is really a great teacher. He may be very unconventional, but that also makes him exceptional. He demands discipline and obedience, and he may seem strict at times, but he is a kind and caring man."

Obi-Wan told him about Qui-Gon's habit of picking up strays and his affinity for the Living Force. He warned him of the quarrels Qui-Gon regularly picked with the Council and advised him how to deal with being the buffer between the Masters of the Council and Master Qui-Gon.

"And when he tells you that there's always a bigger fish, just nod and say 'Yes, Master' no matter how often he repeats it and how useless it seems. Never ever question this – believe me, I learned this the hard way and got first a three-hour lecture and then the silent treatment for a whole week for my doubts of his wisdom."

Obi-Wan asked Anakin to tell him a bit about his life on Tatooine. Anakin chattered excitedly and told his newfound friend about his mother and his success at the Boonta Eve race. That gave Obi-Wan the chance to use the Force to repel one of the more determined and dangerous inhabitants of the lake they were crossing, convincing it to look somewhere else for nourishment.

Some time later, they saw first Qui-Gon's head break the surface of the water, followed by the rest of the tall Master. Two minutes later, Obi-Wan and Anakin had also reached water that was shallow enough for Anakin to stand in. Obi-Wan carefully lowered Anakin to the ground.

Qui-Gon was wringing the water from his hair when Anakin and Obi-Wan rejoined him. Qui-Gon grumbled a bit about some bigger fish that had tried persistently to eat him. Apparently, the huge creature had been completely convinced that Qui-Gon was much tastier than something else the fish had found and obviously spurned as inedible. Obi-Wan cringed slightly as he knew exactly what it had been that the monster had refused to eat.

Soon after setting out again, they found the Gungans by the amount of noise they made. Their sacred place turned out to be not secret at all. It was just an area of the swamp that was littered with old stone statues, or what was left of them. It seemed that there had been a culture here even before the Gungans came to Naboo since the heads of the statues looked human and not Gungan at all.

The Gungans had not even realized that their hideout had been discovered and the Jedi returned to the Queen unchallenged. Qui-Gon led them to the Gungans, this time graciously avoiding the direct route through the lake. Thanks to the awesome drying powers of the Force, their clothes were no longer wet, yet it would be most disrespectful towards her Royal Highness to make her swim through the lake when they could easily walk around it.

This time when they entered the Gungan sacred place, they didn't bother to be stealthy. Still, it took the Gungan guards an incredibly long time to spot the intruders and even longer to do something about them. By the time they were finally stopped by the Gungan security forces, they were already halfway through the makeshift camp that had been erected in between the little ponds and the stone statues.

The Gungans seemed less than pleased to see them, but least of all they seemed to be pleased by Jar Jar's presence.

Under the curious gaze of a few Gungans they were brought before the Gungan Boss. The Gungan population seemed to be sadly **decimated**. There were maybe fifty Gungans in all. Either the rest was hiding somewhere else, or they had indeed been 'wiped out', as Captain Panaka had put it.

"Your Honour, Queen Amidala of the Naboo," the Gungan Captain announced them.

Jar Jar stepped forward. "Hello dadee Big Boss Nass, Your Honour," Jar Jar greeted the Gungan leader, waving sheepishly.

Obi-Wan was not quite sure if Jar Jar had just called Boss Nass 'Daddy' or if it was just another of the Gungan's nonsense words he used to make his sentences appear longer than they actually were. If Boss Nass truly were Jar Jar's father, though, it seemed even crueler to banish the bumbling Gungan. For a father to turn away from his child, it should take a lot more than just the child's clumsiness - something of a much larger scale, like if Jar Jar had betrayed his people and killed them all. And even then…

"Jar Jar Binks," Boss Nass boomed, cutting Obi-Wan's thoughts short. "Who's da uss-en uthers?" he asked, pointing at the Queen, her entourage and the Jedi. He had obviously already forgotten about the Jedi, and he had apparently not listened to the announcement of Queen Amidala's name.

"I am Queen Amidala of the Naboo," Dormé in the guise of the Queen introduced herself. "I come before you in peace – um, I mean in pieces. My clothes are in pieces. Not the ones I'm wearing, obviously, but the ones I left at home. These Trade Federation meanies have taken my palace which contains all my beautiful robes and dresses and all my other clothes."

"Ahhh. Naboo biggen," the Big Boss shouted. "Yousa bringen da Mackineeks. Yousa all bombad," he finished with an air of finality, as if that said everything.

"We have searched you out because we wish you to fight for us since we can't be bothered to fight for ourselves – erm, I mean because we wish to form an alliance," the Queen said.

Dormé aka the Queen had barely finished when Padmé the real Queen aka a handmaiden stepped forwards.

"Your Honour," she addressed the Gungan Boss.

"Whosa dis?" Boss Nass asked condescendingly.

"I am Queen Amidala," Padmé claimed. Jar Jar gaped at her, mouth hanging open in surprise. Anakin's head shot up to look at Padmé. He was going to marry a Queen? WOOOOOW! Did that mean he would become a King? Even an unofficial one?

"This is my decoy," Padmé continued, "my protection, my loyal bodyguard. I'm sorry for my deception, but it was necessary to protect myself."

Qui-Gon looked up and saw that Obi-Wan stared straight ahead, not daring to meet his eye. _What, SHE is the Queen_, he asked through their bond. _But she doesn't look right. The Queen has a white face with red dots on it, like the girl who looks like the Queen. Who would have guessed?_

Obi-Wan didn't answer. He had told his Master more than once about his suspicion concerning Padmé's real identity, and as always Qui-Gon had refused to believe him. Obi-Wan shot him a short glance that clearly said "I told you so".

_You knew it, didn't you?_ Qui-Gon asked, sounding both miffed and amused at the same time. _You should have informed me, Padawan. Why didn't you inform me?_

Padmé continued her little speech. "Although we do not always agree, Your Honour, our two great societies have always lived in peace. The Trade Federation has destroyed all that we have worked so hard to build. If we do not act quickly, all will be lost forever. I ask you to help us – no, I beg you to help us. We are your humble servants" Padmé finished, sinking to her knees in front of the Gungan Boss. When nothing happened, she glared at her entourage and mouthed "Kneel or I will behead you all." Suddenly, all her handmaidens and all the pilots also fell to their knees.

"Our fate is in your hands," Padmé concluded dramatically.

For a few seconds a tense silence ruled – until a strange sound emanated from Boss Nass. It took a few seconds for everyone to recognize the sound as a laugh.

"Yousa no tinken yousa greater den da Gungans?" Boss Nass asked.

Padmé shook her head hesitantly.

"Mesa lika dis! Maybe wesa being friends," Boss Nass declared.

_Now that was a lot easier than I expected,_ Obi-Wan thought. _It's nice that sometimes things can go right, after all._

Boss Nass slobbered so that the people in the front rows were all generously sprinkled with saliva. That made everyone else smile, too. Padmé broke into a huge smile, and even Qui-Gon chuckled quietly. The Gungan Boss was just too cute when he slobbered.

The assembled crowd dutifully erupted in joyous cheers as the signs spelling "APPLAUSE" lit up above the heads of Boss Nass.

oOo

Edited on 27th February, 2011


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29**

Disclaimer: Today I watched one of the "Futurama"-movies, and I almost laughed my head off when that one evil guy said to the Professor: "You are my father! Search your feelings, you know it to be true!" And just so you know, I neither own Star Wars nor Futurama.

oOo

„So now we'll have to go back all the way to the spaceshuttle?" Anakin whined. "Do you even remember where we parked it?"

"Yes, Anakin, I do," Obi-Wan replied absent-mindedly. He was much more interested in staying away from a few of the handmaidens who were obviously planning some kind of attack – they had been whispering eagerly for the last half hour and sneaking peeks at the Padawan when they thought he wasn't paying enough attention to notice. In fact, though, Obi-Wan had been uncomfortably aware of their attention and was currently trying to hide between the Gungan Boss and Anakin – an endeavour that was not exactly crowned with success since Anakin was much too small for Obi-Wan to hide behind, and Boss Nass was not up to the task, either. He was plenty wide enough, but it seemed Jar Jar had inherited his lanky height from his mother's side of the family.

"But Obi-Wan, my feet are all soggy from this stupid swamp," Anakin complained, "and something is trying to eat me, I swear!"

"Jedi do not swear, Anakin," Obi-Wan told the boy, still not paying very much attention.

"Huh?" Anakin seemed confused. Firstly, he hadn't even used any bad words, and secondly, if Jedi weren't allowed to swear, than how did they express their annoyance at certain inconveniences or just vent their anger?

When he asked as much, Anakin got a rather distracted answer about how it was very un-Jedi-like to say things that might offend others.

In Anakin's opinion, Obi-Wan was not nearly paying enough attention to him. He decided that that had to be changed right away.

"Hey, Obi-Wan," he cried, pulling on Obi-Wan's sleeve, "Hey, talk to me! Pay attention! Look at me! I know that you know that I get bored easily, and I don't want to be bored! You have to keep me entertained at all times!" Anakin's tone had taken on the grating quality of a nagging child.

Finally, Obi-Wan fully turned to Anakin and offered him a small smile.

"My, you _are_ persistent!" he said, thinking that Anakin was one of the more demanding projects of Qui-Gon's.

"No, I'm not!", Anakin protested, having no idea what Obi-Wan had just said. "Obi-Wan, tell me some more about the Jedi, about Qui-Gon!" Anakin begged.

"Oh, alright, Anakin. I guess there is no end to your curiosity, is there?" Obi-Wan sighed. "Well, what else can I think of to tell you? I already told you about Master Yoda, about the gardens in the Temple, about my friends, about Master Qui-Gon. What else do you want to know?" he asked, smiling a bit.

"Um, I don't know?" Anakin shrugged.

Obi-Wan thought for a moment. Had he warned Anakin about all of Qui-Gon's peculiarities and eccentricities? He remembered mentioning the strays, the bad cooking, the bigger fish…

Obi-Wan thought about his first days as Qui-Gon's apprentice and what he would have liked to know about his master back then.

Yes, there was definitely at least one more thing Anakin needed to know about Qui-Gon.

"For some reason that still eludes me, Master Qui-Gon likes to rise at an ungodly hour every morning – and he will make you get up, as well. That is not so bad once you get used to it, though. The problem is that you will need a good night's sleep before getting up so early, and that is not always easy because Master Qui-Gon snores. And I mean not just the usual occasional loud breathing. We are talking about a full-blown snore the volume of a stampeding bantha herd. It took me a solid two weeks of insomnia to finally find a way to get some sleep after I became his apprentice. I did extensive research in the library and found that there was a meditative technique that allowed me to shut out the thunderous snores that emanated from Qui-Gon's room."

Anakin grimaced. Meditative technique? That sounded like a lot of work – and pretty _boring_, at that.

Still, Anakin was grateful for the advice.

Qui-Gon quietly chuckled at the conversation between Anakin and Obi-Wan. He, too, was grateful for the advice his current Padawan was giving his future Padawan. It would make the start for Anakin, which would be extremely rough under the circumstances, anyway, so much easier – both for Anakin and for his future Master.

oOo

Darth Maul carefully lowered his craft and set it down on the hidden landing platform that was in fact the Queen's balcony. He glowered at the black ship. It was not to his liking at all.

Darth Maul was a Sith, true, but he was a Sith who was a convinced and fierce environmentalist. He had even requested that his Master buy a more environmentally friendly vehicle, like the ultra-modern Solar Sailer he had seen in one of the ads in the magazine "Sith Today". The highly polished advertisement had sported a detailed description about how the Sailer used huge photo**voltaic** "sails" to produce energy from sunlight.

Although Darth Maul despised the thought of needing the light to get from point A to point B when he was a creature of the darkness himself, he also deeply appreciated the irony of it: a Sith using the light to further the darkness. But this magnificent new space ship was obscenely expensive. The only way one could possibly afford to buy that ship was if one was obscenely wealthy – for example if one were the Count of a reasonably rich planet, like, say, Serenno. And that truly was a shame in Maul's opinion, because he really wanted one.

He threw one last scornful glance at his comparably old-fashioned ship before he stalked off to find the Neimoidians. The Trade Federation had enough money to equip their whole fleet with the latest energy-saving technology, but it seemed that their whole disingenuous **syndicate** didn't care one iota about the conservation of the environment.

Dart Maul found the Viceroy and his assistant in the absolute **mecca** for anyone interested in fashion: the Queen's bedroom. They were dressed in frilly clothes and pink shoes, dancing to vivacious music which boomed from the speakers discreetly hidden behind the curtains and furnishings of the sumptuous chamber. The green aliens looked perfectly ridiculous.

The Sith had to suppress a giggle that would be entirely unacceptable for any self-respecting darksider.

He loudly cleared his throat to get the Viceroy's attention. Two reptilian heads snapped around and four moist eyes widened in shock and utter mortification to be caught in Padmé's favourite nightgowns complete with matching slippers.

The Neimoidians fled in a flurry of pink cloth and returned soon after, dressed more suitably but faces still flushed a curious shade of bluish purple – the typical colour for any deeply embarrassed Neimoidian.

Thankfully, the uncomfortable, awkward silence was suddenly disrupted by the shrill beeping of a comm. link.

_Beep-beep-beep-beep_

_Beep-beep-beep-beep_

_Beep-beep-beep-beep_

Nute Gunray was startled by the sudden noise. He looked around until he spotted the offending device. He was pretty sure that he had told his flunkies to get him a more stylish ringtone, so why hadn't that happened yet?

The Viceroy was just about to throw a fit of rage when his assistant Rune Haaku scurried over and poked him.  
"You have to pick up the phone, Viceroy, that's your comm. link for important people. So either this is some important Senator like Senator Palpatine calling, or it's Lord Sidious. Anyway, you wouldn't want to miss that call," the assistant whispered while pressing the answering button.

Viceroy Gunray took a moment to gather his scanty wits before turning to the caller. He was immensely relieved that they had already discarded the Queen's clothes.

"Ah, Senator Palpatine," Nute Gunray greeted the caller. The Viceroy wondered why the respected Senator had his hood pulled down low over his face. Some very tasteful **allegretto** elevator music could be heard in the background, and the red and black décor were strongly reminiscent of the Senator's office.

For a moment, the person on the comm. link seemed startled and shocked, though he quickly recovered. "I am not Senator Palpatine, you fool," his voice rasped, "I am Lord Sidious!"

The Neimoidians turned a sickly shade of lime green. They almost stumbled over each other in their hurry to bow and scrape and apologize to the frightening Sith Lord.

"I am truly sorry, my Lord, truly sorry indeed," Gunray expressed his regret at his unforgivable blunder. "I should have noticed that you were not Senator Palpatine. Your noble features are far more remarkable than the dull and simple Senator's," he tried to pacify the enraged Sith Lord.

Said Sith Lord was not quite sure whether to feel flattered or offended, so he settled for his favourite state of mind: one of cold disdain towards anything and anyone, coupled with an evil and condescending smirk that hinted at a masterplan to enslave the whole galaxy and kill every last one of these pathetic life forms daring to defile his benighted presence with their worthless existence.

That's exactly what he considered everyone except himself to be: pathetic life forms. But unlike Obi-Wan's teasing that always included a mischievous wink and an impish half-smile, Sidious considered almost everyone just that: pathetic life forms to be used for his ends and which he'd rather prefer to have **lynched** that very second rather than tomorrow or even the day after.

Sidious heaved a deep sigh. Having to socialise with these feeble and inadequate idiots greatly annoyed him, but with their almost endless supply of money and the thousands of battle droids they had procured… well, they had their uses, he had to admit, albeit reluctantly.

Sidious hoped that they had managed the rather simple task he had assigned to them. With their huge droid army, they shouldn't have had any problems eliminating every last Gungan.

When he inquired after their progress in that matter, though, he desperately wanted to throw a tantrum and kill one or two or, better yet, two dozen of these imbeciles.

Yet, it seemed that they were even unable to do that.

Back on Coruscant, one of Senator Palpatine's secretaries suddenly crumpled. The medics that were called immediately said that all evidence pointed to death by asphyxiation, though they were at a complete lack as to why someone would asphyxiate without any apparent cause.

Feeling a little less enraged, Sidious demanded to know whether they had managed to realize that the Queen's ship has returned to Naboo. It seemed that the Neimoidians were at least able to interpret the readout of their extremely expensive sensor arrays because they were pleased to inform him that had established as much.

"So what have you done about them?" Sidious asked. Secretly, the Sith hoped that they had bombed the whole area to bits.

"We've sent our patrols. We already located their starship in the swamps," Nute Gunray assured a most displeased Sith Lord. The Jedi would bomb the _patrol_ to bits, and nothing would be gained by such a useless attack. "It won't be long, my Lord," Gunray said.

_Not long till the Jedi kick your ass, I think, the way you keep blundering_, Sidious thought.

Although he considered the Jedi themselves rather pathetic and incapable in comparison to the unlimited power the Dark Side offered, his allies were unfortunately even more pathetic and incapable.

One of the medics in Senator Palpatine's antechamber suddenly chocked and clawed at his throat. Everyone else in the room fled in panic as the medic thrashed in the throes of a second inexplicable death.

Marginally calmer, Sidious pondered Queen Amidala's tactic.

"This is an unexpected move for her," he rasped. "It's too aggressive. I wouldn't have expected that. The swamp will certainly spoil her shoes and stain the hems of her robes. I can't imagine her doing that. That must be the Jedi's doings. Lord Maul, be mindful," Sidious turned to his apprentice and possibly the only halfway competent person in the room. "Let them make the first move. They will reveal their stupidity and incompetence soon enough," he advised his student.

"Yes, my Master," Darth Maul answered with a respectful inclination of his red and black-striped head, sounding infinitely more threatening and menacing that any Jedi Padawan saying the exact same words ever could – but then again, no Jedi Padawan hated his own Master quite as fiercely as Maul hated his, and an aspiring Jedi had neither the ambition nor the need to kill their Master to become a Master in their own right.

They ended the conversation with the usual pleasantries. When it came to comm. calls, Sidious showed more friendliness than Qui-Gon did – but that was the only occasion the Sith surpassed any Jedi when it came to that, a fact that Sidious was not aware of, or he would have done his best to end the call in the rudest manner possible.

oOo

On the edge of the forest, a Gungan sentry perched high atop one of the strange stone heads that had to belong to another than the Gungan's culture.

"Deysa comin!" he shouted down to Anakin, who was idling in the shadow of the stone sculpture.

"All right," Anakin answered, turned around and ran towards the impromptu planning session taking place beneath a tall tree at the edge of the forest.

"They're here," he shouted excitedly, informing Qui-Gon, Padmé and Obi-Wan of Captain Panaka's return.

"Good, they made it," Padmé remarked in a rather disinterested voice. She sounded neither especially relieved nor pleased that her Head of Security had come back unharmed.

Somewhere off to the side, Jar Jar was made "Bombad General" of the Gungan army.

That didn't exactly strengthen Obi-Wan's confidence in the Queen's plan. If Jar Jar was as good at being a General as he was at everything else, Obi-Wan didn't see much of a future for the Gungans. Then again, Obi-Wan didn't voice his concerns, because on the one hand, the situation was tense enough as it was without him further alarming the more anxious handmaidens, and on the second hand because Obi-Wan wondered how _he_ would fare should he suddenly be appointed General of an army. The Padawan was not quite sure if he could handle it so well as Jar Jar – that was until the Gungan fainted with a dramatic gasp. Then Obi-Wan knew that whatever should happen in the future, he could at least be sure that he would never make such a poor General as Jar Jar.

"Captain," Padmé addressed Panaka.

"Your Highness?"

"What is the situation?"

"Almost everyone's in camps," Panaka reported, "They sleep in tents, go canoeing on the lakes, and in the evenings they sit around the campfire singing songs and roasting marshmallows. A few hundred police and guards as well as a few people strictly opposed to camping formed an underground resistance movement. I brought back as many as the leaders as I could."

Finally, the Captain turned to look at the Jedi.

"The Federation's army is also much larger than we thought and much stronger," he said with an accusatory stare at Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan, as if it were their fault or their plan to fight the droid army head-on.

"Your Highness, this is a battle I do not think that we can win," Panaka finished his assessment.

"The battle is a diversion," Padmé informed him with a shake of her head. "The Gungans must draw the droid army away from the cities. I don't really care how many Gungans die in the process. Nobody likes them, anyway. Besides, I have to save my beloved clothes, and I am sure the Gungans are more than willing to sacrifice their life for such a noble goal."

Obi-Wan was not quite so sure about that. Thankfully, the Gungan Boss could actually see the bigger picture and understood the necessity of defeating the droid army. The Jedi were incredibly grateful for that, because it meant they didn't have to convince the Gungans to take the almost insane risk of what Padmé was proposing against their better judgment – and it meant that the Gungans would take the risk willingly.

Padmé proceeded to explain her plan. "R2," she addressed the little droid.

R2-D2 projected a three-dimensional map of Theed .

"We can enter the city using the secret passages on the waterfall side. Once we get to the main entrance, Captain Panaka will create a diversion."

The Captain looked none too pleased with the plan, and neither did Qui-Gon. The Jedi Master suddenly experienced the feeling of a strange and very uncomfortably cold lump in his stomach. For a second, he wondered why there would be such a lump when he hadn't eaten any ice cream, then he dismissed the sensation without ever identifying it as the bad feeling that had been plaguing his Padawan since the start of this mission.

Padmé continued: "Then we can enter the palace and capture the Viceroy. Without the Viceroy, they'll be lost and confused, despite the fact that 'they' are mostly droids which don't actually have any feelings and will simply obey every order that reaches their tiny processor brains. What do you think, Master Jedi?" she asked, turning to Qui-Gon. She didn't allow herself to look at Obi-Wan for fear of losing her focus and her carefully implemented calmness.

"The Viceroy will be well-guarded" Qui-Gon said.

If the situation weren't so serious, Obi-Wan would have smiled. Usually he was the one to state the obvious, and he usually earned a rebuke from Qui-Gon for that particular habit.

"The difficulty is getting into the throne room," Panaka agreed. "Once we're inside, we shouldn't have a problem. After all, it is a rule of nature that the one sitting on the throne is the one to give the orders. So if we succeed in getting her Highness to sit on the throne, then all our troubles will simply disappear."

"Yes, that seems like a sound plan," Qui-Gon agreed. "And you are right, of course. I have also noticed that the throne seems to give a certain mysterious power the person sitting on it – why else would every monarch and most other rulers have one? But there is one thing I would like to point out: There is a possibility, with this diversion, many Gungans will be killed."

"Wesa ready to do our-san part," Boss Nass stated proudly.

"We have a plan which should immobilize the droid army. We will send what pilots we have to knock out the control ship orbiting the planet," the Queen explained.

Anakin was delighted. If one wanted to believe the highscore he had reached in his videogame back home on Tatooine, he was pretty good at shooting spaceships down. He wanted to help defeat these evil Trade Federation guys – and besides, firing at spaceships was fun!

"A well-conceived plan," Qui-Gon remarked, "however, there's great risk. The weapons on your fighters may not penetrate the shields."

Padmé blushed and chortled. "He said 'penetrate'," she whispered to Captain Panaka, who could obviously find nothing funny about that.

Despite the very likely reproach he would get for focusing too much on his anxieties and not living in the here and now, Obi-Wan had not only given some thought to the immediate consequences. He also thought of the long-term consequences, the bigger picture, a view that came with his proximity to the Unifying Force.

"There is an even bigger danger," he said, pointing out a weakness in the Queen's plan. "If the Viceroy escapes, your Highness, he will return with another droid army."

_Oooh, got brains, do we? _Padmé sneered. Although or probably because Padmé was so smitten with the Padawan, she couldn't accept any criticism from him.

"Well, that's why we must not fail to get the Viceroy. Everything depends on it," she retorted snappily. That didn't sound at all like an acceptable solution to Obi-Wan's objection but much rather like a childish rejoinder. It seemed the Queen was not inclined to admit even the very likely possibility of failure – which was not an impossibility, considering the odds and all the lives at stake.

Anakin's glance went from Padmé to Obi-Wan and back. If someone snapped at him like that, he would surely retort just as tersely – even though his mother had always told him that talking back was bad-mannered.

For Anakin, the fact that the Padawan silently accepted the Queen's retort and didn't seem to mind at all just added to the mystery Obi-Wan was to Anakin.

The discussion continued for some time more, but Anakin wasn't paying attention any more. He had discovered Jar Jar still lying on the ground. Anakin grabbed a stick and started poking the unconscious Gungan with it, which proved to be a lot more fun than listening to the boring discussions about the best possible strategy any longer.

oOo

Edited on 27th February, 2011


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter 30**

Disclaimer: I still don't own Star Wars, and I still don't own the Lord of the Rings, and this week, I also don't own Doctor Who.

oOo

A deep frown was etched on the slowly sagging face of Darth Sidious, although naturally no one could see that since his features were hidden beneath his trademark wide black cowl. The reason for his displeasure was the way his usually rather menacing apprentice appeared strangely pitiable next to the Neimoidians because they towered above him by at least two heads. Also, their sickly green colour clashed unfavourably with Maul's red stripes.

Sidious had become bored with the Neimoidian's account of the situation on Naboo, so he had ordered them to transfer the comm. station to a mechanical spider and walk through the palace. That way, he could at least admire the architecture.

By now, he was reconsidering the wisdom of his decision, though. His apprentice did seem unacceptably short in comparison to the Viceroy and his assistant, and this shameful different in height was even more obvious when they were not sitting down.

Aside from that, though, everything was going according to his plan – a plan he had had to adjust recently because things had not been going according to plan, and that was even less acceptable than a short apprentice. So he had been forced to alter his plans to make the circumstances fit his schemes again.

"So the Queen landed in the swamps?" he inquired. That seemed like a bad idea, considering her unhealthy attachment to her wardrobe, which would undoubtedly get dirty out in the swamps. "She is more foolish than I thought," the Sith Lord sneered.

To recruit the Gungans to fight for her had been an unexpected move on the Queen's part – but he was sure it would prove to be a futile one, in the end. Jar Jar was living proof of the inanity and idiocy innate to the Gungan people, and even if Jar Jar was an especially bad example of Gungan folly, Sidious was sure that they stood no chance against the infinitely more efficient and deadly droids.

"We are sending all troops to meet this army assembling near the swamp. It appears to be made up of primitives," Nute Gunray reported.

"This will work to our advantage," Sidious rasped disdainfully. The Gungans stood no chance against the might of his minions – even though his minions were not all that mighty.

"I have your approval to proceed, then, my Lord?" the Viceroy asked, sounding quite surprised that Sidious for once approved of the way he was handling things.

"Wipe them out," Sidious ordered, a malicious sneer on the visible half of his face. "All of them. But remember to retain a sufficient number of battle droids to guard the palace. If we have learned one thing from the Dark Lord Sauron's defeat, it is that a small group of highly dangerous individuals who are seemingly just feeble little weaklings can infiltrate your inner defenses when you are busy crushing the seemingly greater threat with the majority of your army. And then, these feeble weaklings will destroy your Ring of Power before you can say '_Ash nazg gurbatuluk_' even once, and all your carefully laid plans will have been for naught just because you couldn't be bothered to guard your headquarters properly. Slaughtering an army of imbeciles is certainly a lure that is hard to withstand, I know. And you may slaughter all the Gungans you like if you just remember to protect the palace."

Sidious' little speech was met with baffled stares and mystified shrugs. Even Darth Maul looked puzzled. His Master knew many dark secrets, but that was something Darth Sidious had never told him about before.

Suddenly, the Sith Master's scornful and derisive demeanour became rushed. He glanced at his chronometer and said: "Oh, it's already past three o'clock? I'll have to hurry if I want to be elected chancellor – I mean, if I want to have a chance at, erm, being elated by, um, by my getting appointed Supreme Chancellor – erm, I mean – I have to go!" Sidious stammered and then hung up abruptly.

In the swamp, the Gungans were facing the droid army. Jar Jar turned to Captain Tarpals, one of the Gungans with a distinctive appearance who didn't look like a clone of all the others that made up the masses of the army.

oOo

Jar Jar was not exactly glad with the situation.

"Dis is nice, innit?" he remarked sarcastically. "First, mesa getting banished at mesa time of life. When mesa return, mesa suddenly made General! And now? What a way to spend an evening: fighting da droid army with mesa boomerang in mesa hand."

Jar Jar angrily hurled the blue glowing ball the Gungans used as weapons at the droids, despite the fact that the droids were still quite out of range. The newly appointed Gungan General morosely watched the projectile hit the ground about two hundred meters short of the frontline of the hostile army.

He stared at it for about half a minute before he turned to Captain Tarpals and complained in a plaintive whinge: "My boomerang won't come back!"

The Captain heaved a sigh. Jar Jar's intelligence was excessively limited even for a Gungan.

"That'sa because thissen not a boomerang but just a boomer," he explained long-sufferingly.

He resented being made the babysitter for Jar Jar, but the Big Boss had insisted that someone had to do the job. He had even flattered the Captain by saying that Tarpals was the only one cunning enough to deal with such a huge catastrophe as Jar Jar, and the Captain had let himself be talked into the unpopular task. Now, he cursed himself for not protesting more.

The remainder of the battle was just a long string of embarrassments which for the most part featured Jar Jar as the biggest idiot walking this Galaxy, and even of the immobile kind there were few that were more stupid that him. Since the recollection alone is almost too painful to bear, the battle shall not be discussed in greater detail. Suffice to say that in the end, most Gungans were either dead, captured or, in the case of Jar Jar, had shamed themselves by trying to run away.

oOo

It had been comparably easy to infiltrate the Palace of Theed. Suspiciously easy, in Obi-Wan's opinion. Much too easy.

Up to now, there had been no need for stealth at all. Still, they were cautious and kept in the shadows of walls, huge potted plants and whatever cover they could find.

Padmé hid behind one of the numerous architectural details of the huge courtyard they had just entered. She was closely followed by Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan and a few of her guards.

Padmé unobtrusively sent Captain Panaka, who was located at the other end of the courtyard, a signal with her red laserlight. The Captain confirmed the silent communication with his own, blue one.

That was the start signal for the distraction Panaka was to create.

The deeper they went onto the palace, the more danger they would be in. Not that the skinny battle droids posed any real peril to the Jedi, but the middle of a battle was certainly no place for a little boy.

Qui-Gon crouched down next to Anakin and grasped the boy's shoulders reassuringly.

"Once we get inside, you find a safe place to hide and stay there," Qui-Gon firmly told Anakin. It would not do to lose his new and shiny Padawan. Well, at least Anakin was almost as good as his Padawan, so he might as well start thinking of him like that. "Simply stay out of sight for a bit, and try to draw not too much attention to yourself. If you just remember to do the occasional barrel roll, you should be fine."

"Sure," Anakin said, although he didn't sound very convincing. That one word sounded more like Anakin intended to stay in a safe place and hide there right until Qui-Gon was out of sight – and then he would immediately leave and find a video game because that was so much more fun than staying hidden in a safe place. If he didn't try to follow Qui-Gon, that was.

Qui-Gon looked at Anakin doubtfully. "_Stay there_," he reaffirmed, his finger raised warningly. The Jedi Master guessed correctly in his estimation of Anakin's character: his doubts that Anakin would stay in a place where there was no video game handy for longer than thirty seconds were entirely justified.

At that moment, Captain Panaka and his men began their attack. In a matter of seconds, laser beams were ricocheting in all directions, hitting droids and leaving ugly scorch marks on the walls. Padmé frowned disapprovingly. It would take her palace staff _ages_ to get the walls nice and clean again.

Padmé quickly rounded the corner to the doors into the hangar. She and Anakin were kept safe by the bright, humming blades of her Jedi protectors. Anakin was deeply impressed at the way Qui-Gon's and Obi-Wan's green and blue lightsabers deflected every shot coming their way. He desperately wished he could do that, too. He was sure he would look awesome with such a glowing lasersword and the rakish handsomeness that was his by birthright. Right now, though, his looks were still sweet and elfin, and to Anakin's enormous displeasure, that meant that Obi-Wan received all the admiring glances.

oOo

Inside the palace, the Neimoidians stared disbelievingly at the battle outside.

"I thought the battle was going to take place far from here," Nute Gunray said apprehensively. "This is too close," he added.

Darth Maul sneered derisively. In his opinion, the battle was not nearly close enough. The Neimoidians, though, were notorious cowards. He could smell their panic from here – and it offended his nose terribly. It was time to go and join the battle. He was eager to test his strength against these pathetic Jedi – and to escape the terrible smell the Neimoidians gave off. No matter how unpleasant these Jedi might be with their insufferable _light side_ and their distasteful _goodness_, at least he was almost positive that they didn't smell as bad as the Viceroy and his assistant.

With a scornful snort and an impressive swish of his cloak, Darth Maul turned around and stalked off towards the hangar. He had a rendezvous with a few Jedi and he didn't intend to be late.

That would totally ruin his dramatic entrance.

oOo

When the wide doors that led to the hangar swished open noiselessly, Anakin simply stood there, gobsmacked. The two Jedi were the first to go through the door, where a barrage of blaster fire met them. But Anakin had seen enough blaster fire in his life to not be impressed by the multicoloured flashes of light that flashed around the hangar.

Anakin's eyes were solely fixed on the whirling blue and green blades that deflected all the blaster bolts in a way that seemed to defy every law of nature Anakin had ever heard of (which was not as impressive as it might appear in the first place, because Anakin was largely ignorant of anything pertaining to science and barely knew any laws of nature).

For a second, Padmé also stood motionlessly, admiring Obi-Wan's swift strokes and lightning-quick movements that shielded her from being riddled with projectiles of brightly coloured energy. The droids fell by the dozen, hit either by the green fire of Naboo's brave pilots or their own not quite so friendly fire reflected from the brilliant blades of energy wielded by Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan.

Anakin stumbled through the blasterfire, not quite knowing where to go and what to do. Not for the last time, he wished he could have one of those awesome laserswords, too. Maybe then Padmé would look at him with the same intense stare that was currently directed at Obi-Wan. Anakin felt a stab of jealousy. Obi-Wan didn't seem to appreciate Padmé's attention, in fact he didn't even seem to notice. Besides, Padmé had no business staring at Obi-Wan like that. Padmé was _his, _and he would never allow her looking at anyone except himself when they were married. Should Padmé ever take Obi-Wan's side against him, he refused to be held liable for his actions – though Anakin could imagine that it would probably end in strangulation and a battle between friends.

Qui-Gon's deep baritone managed to grab Anakin's attention despite the real mad battle going on in the hangar and the imaginary mad battle going on inside Anakin's head.

"Ani, find cover. Quick!" the Jedi Master ordered the boy.

"Get to the ships!" Padmé shouted through the noise of battle.

Anakin was a bit confused. Whose order should he obey? Obeying orders had never been one of his strengths, anyway, so now he was unsure what to do. Instead of simply ignoring orders as was his usual way of dealing with them, Anakin decided to obey both for a change. He would go and hide in a ship. That way, neither Qui-Gon nor Padmé could fault his behaviour.

Most ships were already occupied by some pilot or other. The only one left for Anakin was located in a corner, and it looked somehow _lesser_ than the other ships that were one by one leaving the hangar to fly towards Naboo's bright blue sky.

R2 was already on his way towards the little yellow starfighter, whistling cheerfully. Finally, something exciting was going on to alleviate the boredom of his usual life as an astromech droid. He intended to find a cosy little socket where he could connect with some sociable computer and have a chat with it.

To R2's surprise, he suddenly found himself in the company of the little boy the tall Jedi had picked up on Tatooine. The droid was not exactly eager to meet the boy. R2 eyed him warily with his photosensor. Although Anakin looked innocent and even endearing to most human eyes, to R2D2 he was a creepy little boy. Rumour had it that Anakin liked to tinker with everything mechanical, so the little droid had done his best to stay away from the danger unprofessional mechanics posed to droids.

"_Oh no, what are you doing here?_" R2 tootled anxiously. Hopefully, the boy did not intend to start fiddling with R2's parts in the middle of a battle. Should that be the case, though, R2 would not prove to be as **obsequious** as the other droids Anakin had disassembled and failed to reassemble again afterwards. He vowed to guard his mechanical innards jealously.

But Anakin's eyes were fixed firmly on the controls of the little spaceship. There were not nearly as many buttons as he had expected. It looked quite simple, really, not all that different from the controls of his podracer. Excitedly, Anakin leaned forward and eyed the enticingly gleaming big red button. Slowly, a huge smile spread on his face and with a contended sigh, he pressed it. Finally, no one was there to keep him from fulfilling his heart's desire. Anakin pressed the button again, just because he felt like it.

Anakin grabbed the headset and made an announcement through the microphone of his ship.

"Dear passengers," he said in his best imitation of Obi-Wan's voice, because he thought that the Padawan had the most accurate and educated pronunciation he knew and that this was just perfect to make an official announcement sound even more official, "As your Captain for today, I, Anakin Skywalker, would like to welcome you aboard. The weather at our destination, the beautiful planet Naboo, is pleasant, with the minor inconvenience of an invasion by the Trade Federation. Pray fasten your seatbelts before takeoff."

Anakin turned around to his "passengers" who consisted of R2 and two mice which were hidden somewhere in the machinery of his little spaceship and which Anakin was not aware of, smiled widely and finished: "I hope you will enjoy your flight."

R2, now connected to the ship's computer, protested. "_You can't fly that thing. We will go nowhere_," he beeped, and simultaneously made the words appear on the screen in the cockpit because he feared that Anakin didn't have a clue what he was bleeping on about. "_Hey, are you even listening to me? Do you hear a beep of what I'm saying_?" he whistled crossly.

In fact, Anakin was completely absorbed with listening to his angel's sweet voice. Well, not quite so sweet at the moment, as she was using her queenly voice.

"My guess is the viceroy is in the throne room," she repeated the speculations everybody had already agreed upon earlier.

"Red group! Blue group! Everybody, this way!" Captain Panaka shouted, motioning for some guards and handmaidens to follow him.

Anakin suddenly reappeared from behind the controls. Playing captain of a spacechip had been fun, but he had no intention of missing the fun of fighting the Trade Federation army – or at least watch it being fought.

"Hey, wait for me," he shouted.

"Anakin, stay where you are," Qui-Gon said as he walked by. "You'll be safe there. Never forget: there's always a bigger fish, and when in trouble, do a barrel roll."

"But I-" Anakin started to protest, in full whine mode now.

"Stay in that cockpit," Qui-Gon repeated resolutely, in a tone that did not brook any further argument. To emphasise his instruction, he pointed a finger at Anakin, who mumbled defiantly: "Did your mother never tell you that pointing with naked fingers at clothed people is impolite?"

A bit louder, Anakin added: "Please be careful, Qui-Gon. And please remember to save your game before you fight the final battle. Also, it always pays to have a few spare lives and to collect as many coins in a level as possible."

_Someone should tell him that this is real life, not one of his video games,_ Obi-Wan thought.

Anakin protested some more when they walked on without taking him along. In the end, however grudgingly, Anakin stayed in the cockpit. Qui-Gon didn't seem like the kind of man one wanted to get on the wrong side of.

Anakin watched from his safe spot in the cockpit as the little group approached one end of the hangar. There were three portals in the wall, and Captain Panaka, who was in the lead, faltered and stopped.

"Which door shall we take, your Highness?" he asked, turning to his Queen.

Padmé also seemed indecisive, so she turned to the Jedi who were at the back of the group.

"What do you think, Master Jedi?" she asked. "Which one will you take, door one, door two or door three? But please remember, you can only choose one. Behind one door, you will find a safe route to the throne room. Behind one door lies…" Padmé paused for effect "… a brand new purple speeder! It has an open cockpit and the right speed capabilities. And this speeder is pimped with a **TARDIS** device. **TARDIS** is an acronym for 'Time And Relative Dimension In Space' and this ultra-modern device makes it possible that the interior of the speeder is actually a lot bigger than it appears on the outside. This speeder has a living room, a spacious kitchen, two bedrooms, a swimming pool, a gym and a completely furnished spa," Padmé finished. Her manner of speaking had morphed from her droning royal voice to the sweet and exaggerated tones of someone trying to sell a used car.

Anakin perked up and listened more intensely. That sounded interesting. The boy was sure he would like that speeder very much, and that a nice speeder chase through Coruscant would be just to his liking, as well.

"But choose wisely," Padmé cautioned. "Behind one door lies certain doom in form of a fully grown and hungry Royal tiger."

Qui-Gon stood there, staring at the doors, silently pondering the problem.

Anakin eagerly jumped up and down, shouting: "Take door number three! I want that speeder!"

Obi-Wan just stood there, chewing on his lip, and was about to say that _this was real life and not some holonet game show_ and besides he had a bad feeling about door number three when Qui-Gon decided to listen to Anakin's impulsive advice. That boy truly was living in the moment!

"I want door number three," he declared.

Captain Panaka stepped up. "I offer you two thousand Republic credits if you take door number two instead," he said. "Do you still want door number three?"

Qui-Gon thought about it for a moment. Then he said: "No, Republic credits are no good out here, I have heard. I need something more real. I'll take door number three."

"Are you sure?" Now it was Padmé's turn to try and dissuade the Jedi Master from wanting to choose the door they had made him choose in the first place. "I will offer you two thousand five hundred – no, make that three thousand Republic credits."

"Yes, I'm quite sure," Qui-Gon affirmed.

"All right, then, door number three it is," Panaka said with an air of finality. Padmé walked over to the controls for the door, exaggeratingly swaying her hips. With an overdramatic flourish and a completely fake and overly bright smile, Padmé pushed the button that opened the door.

The door opened without the ominous creak that would have been appropriate for such a fateful moment.

_Ooh,_ Anakin thought disappointedly, flopping back into his pilot seat, _not the speeder._

_This is certainly not a tiger, royal or not_, Obi-Wan thought, forever sticking to the obvious when he was unsure about a situation. _Although he does have enough stripes to qualify as one._

Behind the door stood a single figure swathed completely in black. Slowly, he raised his head to fully reveal it in all its black-and red-striped glory. Red-rimmed eyes that were tainted yellow, a sure sign of the Dark Side – or of some serious hepatic illness probably related to Maul's excessive consumption of a chemical compound called ethanol, although the Jedi didn't know that – glowered at them from beneath a dark hood not unlike the one Sidious favoured.

"We'll handle this," Qui-Gon volunteered.

"We'll take the long way," Padmé agreed. With that, all the handmaidens, royal guards, Panaka and Padmé went to door number two, behind which lay the safe route to the throne room.

As Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan approached the Darksider, he lowered his hood to reveal a crown of short, stubby horns. The Jedi and the Sith glared at each other for a second. Qui-Gon narrowed his eyes to squint at his opponent. He had the distinct feeling that he had seen that striped face somewhere before – his philosophy to always live in the moment did not allow for a particularly good memory.

Obi-Wan had to suppress a shudder at the tendrils of darkness the Sith stretched out to touch the Jedi's bright Force signatures. The Sith's signature felt oily and vile in the Force and seemed to leave ugly stains in that all-encompassing energy field. The Sith gloated at them, eager to test the unlimited power the Dark Side offered against the Jedi's fabled yet pitiable skills.

The Sith and the Jedi simultaneously discarded their robes, as the flapping fabric could easily hamper their movements in the coming battle. The Sith took out his lightsaber. Obi-Wan noted the exceptionally long handle – until the Sith struck a menacing pose and ignited first one and then both ends of his lightsaber, then his eyes were more occupied with keeping track of both the brightly glowing blood-red blades. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan followed suit, although their lightsabers looked much less impressive in comparison to the dual-bladed one the Sith wielded.

With a fierce look in his eyes, the Sith attacked. Obi-Wan flipped over his head, and a heated battle started.

oOo

Anakin was still frustrated that they hadn't won the speeder. He heaved a deep sigh. Not even the extraordinary battle that was taking place in front of his eyes could gain his interest. Normally he wouldn't be able keep his eyes off the flashing and whirling lightsabers and the fluid grace of both the Jedi's and the Sith's movements, but the fact that they hadn't won the speeder when he had been so sure that it was behind door number three had enraged him greatly. He needed a vent for his frustration – shooting a few droids should do the trick.

"R2, can you get this ship up in the air?" Anakin asked. "We gotta do something, R2!"

"_This thing can't really fly anywhere, boy,_" R2 beeped. "_But if you want something to happen, you should try pushing that little button that looks like the ignition_."

Anakin didn't understand a beep of what R2 was trying to tell him, though. All the buttons and levers were clearly labelled, but since reading was not exactly one of his strengths, either, he had really no idea what he was doing.

"I'm trying to," Anakin shouted, pretending to understand exactly what R2 had been talking about, "but I don't know where the trigger is!"

Anakin randomly pushed a few buttons. Suddenly, the front pane of his fighter didn't show the hangar any more but the familiar screen of a computer game.

"Welcome to the virtual SHIPS educational video game, the training program for Superb Handmaidens and Improved Piloting Skills, sponsored by his Excellency Senator Palpatine. You have chosen the animated training program for space battles on the professional level. Your virtual flight will begin in three – two – one – START!"

Anakin was delighted – he had actually found a video game! One that had educational intentions, true, but still it might be fun. Unfortunately, he hadn't quite figured out the controls yet.

"Up, I said. I want to go UP!" Anakin tried a lever that looked promising.

"Are you sure you want to quit the game?" the mechanical voice of the game asked him.

"Oops, wrong one," Anakin flinched. "Maybe it's this one."

"GAME OVER!" the computer informed him. "You have activated the EJECT-button while in space. You lost one life, which leaves you with a remaining four lives. Do you want to try again?"

"Nope, wrong one again. Wait, here it is!" Anakin grabbed the joystick that had been right in front of his nose all the time and that had obviously been designed to steer the ship.

"Yeah!" the boy shouted as he re-started the level.

Then he noticed that he couldn't manoeuvre the ship as he wanted to. It appeared as if the ship was following a predetermined track, and the only things Anakin could influence were the velocity of the ship and the guns.

"It's on automatic pilot," he complained, haphazardly pushing buttons to try and turn it off. "It's no fun like that at all. How am I supposed to avoid the hostile fire? Try to override it, R2."

"_You will have to score a certain amount of points in order to unlock the free play,"_ R2 whistled.

As Anakin followed the course of the level, he arrived at a huge battle station, and finally, the first enemy ships attacked him.

"Look, there they are," he commented. "That's where the autopilot is taking us."

Soon, Anakin found himself in the middle of an intense if virtual space battle.

"Wow, this is tense," he shouted excitedly. "R2 get us off this autopilot. It`s gonna get us both killed, and I don't have nearly enough extra lives yet."

Frantically, Anakin fired at the spaceship-droids coming his way.

"_You're not listening to me at all, are you?"_ R2 shrieked exasperatedly. _"Alright, you don't listen to what I have to say, then I won't say anything useful."_ And with that, the little droid started cheerfully whistling his favourite song: "_**Uuh, eeh, uh-ah-ah, ting tang walla-walla-bing-bong**__…"_ It seemed R2 was a great fan of the witchdoctor-song, probably because it was the only song he could actually pronounce.

Anakin completely misinterpreted the astromech's agitated trills. "You did it, R2! Okay, let's go left!"

They had at last scored enough points to unlock free movement and their ship swerved to the left.

R2 didn't let Anakin's wild manoeuvres interrupt his happy little song.

Once again, the boy completely misinterpreted his bleeps.

"Go back?" he asked incredulously and, in R2's opinion, completely randomly. "Qui-Gon told me to stay in this cockpit, so that's what I'm gonna do. I'll try a barrel roll to evade the laser fire, that's a good trick. Qui-Gon told me so, too."

Another few wild shrieks from R2 meant that he had arrived at the refrain again.

"I know we're in trouble. Just hang on!" Anakin shouted. "Oh no, we're hit, R2! The energy bar is almost gone!"

Another hit, and once again the computer announced that his game was over.

"Oh, damn!" Anakin shouted and madly pressed the little green button that re-started the game.

After several more tries, Anakin was down to his last life. Still, his enthusiasm was undiminished.

"Take this! And this!" he cheered, firing wildly around the battle station he was in – until he managed to hit the vital compound of the ship.

"Mission accomplished. Congratulations!" the computer informed him.

"Great! Yippie! I did it!" Anakin cheered. "Let's get outta here."

oOo

Up in the real space around Naboo, the pilots attacking the Trade Federation's droid control ship were completely baffled. One moment, things didn't look rosy at all, the next moment the ship simply blew up – and that certainly was not their doing.

"What's that?" one pilot asked. "It's blowing up from the inside," she answered her own question a second later, sounding completely baffled.

"We didn't hit it," another pilot said, sounding equally perplexed.

Still having no idea what had hit the battle station, they nevertheless turned around and returned to Theed, grateful for the lucky circumstance that had somehow destroyed the all but invincible starship.

Suddenly, as the control ship went supernova, all the droids were deactivated due to the lucky circumstance that the Neimoidians hadn't installed an auxiliary control station on Naboo.

oOo

Back down on the ground, the Naboo pilots encountered a happy little boy dancing around the hangar, alternately shouting and singing: "I did it! I blew it up! I did it!"

The pilots shared dubious glances, shrugged and then accepted Anakin's claim with a cheer. They heaved the small boy onto their shoulders and carried him through the palace in an impromptu victory parade.

But if neither Anakin nor the brave pilots of Naboo had been the cause for the explosion, what had caused it?

Unnoticed by Naboo's flight squad that was busy dodging hostile attacks and desperately trying to score a hit, an enormous danger was approaching. The Neimoidians were staring wide-eyed at the perilous thing that was inevitably, unstoppably drawing nearer.

"What is that?" the Neimoidian in command said, pointing at the huge yellow something right outside the window. "Gee, that almost looks like… a… giant… G?" he finished lamely, seconds before the huge battle station was hit by one of the huge yellow letters from the beginning that were still roaming through the Galaxy.

Didn't I tell you these letters were dangerous and would surely cause harm sooner or later? Don't tell me I didn't warn you!

oOo

I was asked to include a few lines of the song "My Boomerang Won't Come Back". Here they are, somewhat modified to suit my needs: "Dis is nice, innit?" he remarked sarcastically. "First, mesa getting banished at mesa time of life. [When mesa return, mesa suddenly made General! And now?] What a way to spend an evening: fighting da droid army with mesa boomerang in mesa hand." And of course the sentence: My boomerang won't come back.

Edited on 27th February, 2011


	31. Chapter 31

**Chapter 31**

Disclaimer: Although I have put a lot of time and effort into this story so far, it still doesn't belong to me. Sad, isn't it?

oOo

Green, blue and red. The lightsabers of Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan and the Sith fizzled and sparked as the blades clashed. The air was filled with the low hum of energy and the smell of ozone. The hangar they were fighting in was now all but empty. Anakin was well hidden inside the flight simulator, the Queen was on her way to the throne room, the last of the droids had been neatly sliced in two.

Although the Jedi were attacking from two sides, the Sith blocked every single one of their blows with seeming ease, and although the two Jedi were working together in perfect harmony, the Sith only sneered at their attempts at defeating him.

With a cursory glance around the hangar, Obi-Wan spotted the body of a tiger showing the unmistakable marks of lightsaber wounds. So there really had been a tiger behind door number three, but it seemed the tiger had found a premature end at the blade of the Sith. The poor animal had probably attacked or maybe just annoyed the Darksider, and now its corpse was lying in a dark corner of the hangar.

The second of distraction as the Padawan glanced at the dead animal allowed the Sith to dodge Obi-Wan's next, rather clumsy blow and give Qui-Gon a kick that sent the Jedi Master flying to the floor. As Qui-Gon got back up again, the Sith backed away from Obi-Wan with an impressive jump over his double-bladed lightsaber. A dark tendril of the Force sent a hacked-off piece of droid towards the controls that opened the door.

After a short exchange of blows between Obi-Wan and Darth Maul, Qui-Gon was back up and ready to fight again.

Obi-Wan silently scolded himself for his short moment of distraction. Here was the final, epic battle and his thoughts were not focused on it. The Padawan looked over to Qui-Gon to check whether his Master was all right – and when he looked back, he saw the sole of a Sithly boot approach his face with something resembling terminal velocity. This time, it was Obi-Wan who was sent flying, and he painfully crashed into the wall.

Obi-Wan cleared his head with a shake. That was completely unacceptable. A senior Padawan – worse, one who was supposed to be ready for his trials - who couldn't keep his wits about him during a critical battle! Obi-Wan cursed himself for his inattention. Usually, he wasn't nearly as preoccupied, especially not during a fight – that was all because of the awful bad feeling that had been plaguing him since the beginning of this mission and had steadily grown worse over the last three minutes. It had worsened from a slight, uncomfortable twinge that could be ignored without much difficulty to an almost suffocating tightness around his chest. Still, he couldn't afford to be so troubled by a bad feeling when that might end in a _real_ cause for a bad feeling. Obi-Wan took one more second to finally banish the disturbing bad feeling before he quickly rejoined the battle.

The pace of the battle increased, and for one short moment it seemed as if the renewed effort of Master and Padawan finally got to the Sith. The dark warrior backed off a few paces and the Jedi cornered him at the edge of a deep **abyss**. There were some narrow walkways spanning the deep chasm in the middle of the room. The walkways were located at different levels, and they granted access not only to several entrances and exits leading to and from the strange room but also to four wide pillars of pure light that rose from the depths of the room up the to the ceiling. Obi-Wan wondered for a second why anyone would need such a strange room with such strange pillars of light in it – they didn't serve any purpose he could imagine – before he stubbornly dragged his attention back to their opponent. No more distractions, he vowed.

oOo

The Sith snarled at Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan. These stupid Jedi had actually managed to corner him. Maul was not impressed with their fighting abilities. The Master might actually turn out to be a worthy opponent where it came to swordplay, but he was much older than Maul and the Sith was confident he could tire him out. The apprentice, though, was a disappointment. He was certainly jumping around and haphazardly stabbing at Maul, and his movements were energetic enough, but his thoughts seemed to be somewhere else entirely, and Maul considered him more an inconvenient nuisance than a real threat.

With a contemptuous sneer, Darth Maul gave the pathetic Padawan a powerful shove with the Force just to demonstrate his superiority. Obi-Wan stumbled back a few paces, and the Sith took the opportunity to somersault onto the nearest catwalk where seconds later, the fight continued.

oOo

All the while, Obi-Wan could neither quite banish nor fully explain the feeling of familiarity that nagged at him since he had gotten his first clear glimpse of the Sith. Somehow, he felt like he had already met the Zabrak, but he couldn't quite place him. Where would a Jedi Padawan meet a Sith? Obi-Wan hadn't seen much of the short fight between the Sith and Qui-Gon on Tatooine except for the red and green flashes of the lightsabers in a big cloud of dust. Still, a frown started to crease Obi-Wan's forehead. He was sure he had seen the Sith before – if only he could remember _where_.

Unfortunately, the Sith seemed to sense even the tiniest moment of distraction like a cat could sense an earthquake. Once again, the sole of a Sithly boot connected painfully with his chest. Obi-Wan fell backwards and off the catwalk. His fall was stopped some ten meters below on another narrow walkway and Obi-Wan managed to hold on to its edge as he caught his fall. For a short moment, Obi-Wan just held on to the catwalk, catching his breath. He stifled a groan as his chest stung. There would soon be a big bruise the shape and size of a Sithly boot's sole right across his chest. Obi-Wan gathered the Force around him and jumped back onto the catwalk Qui-Gon and the Sith were fighting on. He picked up his lightsaber, berating himself for losing his weapon.

_This weapon is your life_, he sternly reminded himself. That was one of the first things Master Yoda had taught him when he was still very young. Obi-Wan could clearly remember his first lesson in lightsaber combat with the ancient green Master. Yoda had given Obi-Wan his first training saber with the words: "Always take good care, you must. A lightsaber, very dangerous it can be, yet at the same time it can be your only protection aside from the Force, which of course is always with you. This weapon is your life, young Obi-Wan."

Yoda never failed to put the word "young" in front of his name. And although Obi-Wan undoubtedly _had been_ young at that time (and probably still was, depending on one's point of view) and Yoda called everything under the age of 600 standard years young, the Padawan had gradually gotten the feeling that Yoda did not refer to his age when he called him "young Obi-Wan" but rather that the diminutive Master did it to distinguish him from another, presumably "old" Obi-Wan.

In his thirst for knowledge and his firm belief in Master Yoda's infinite wisdom, he had dared ask Master Yoda about that when he was about five years old. What the ancient Jedi had answered had completely confused him, though. Yoda had told the bewildered child that there had indeed been an old Obi-Wan Kenobi, occasionally also known as Ben Kenobi, but that he had died a few years ago. The young Obi-Wan had asked perplexedly if he was somehow related to that Ben Kenobi. The Master had informed him that somehow, the future of this galaxy had happened before its past.

"**Complicated space timey-wimey stuff**, it is," Yoda had explained. "Not think about it too much, I will, because a headache, it will give me."

Master Yoda had not elaborated further, and Obi-Wan had never dared ask again, but his belief in Yoda's infinite wisdom and even the green Master's sanity had been irrevocably shattered. Maybe that was why Master Yoda was always talking backwards – because he experienced his life backwards, too? But Obi-Wan quickly discarded that idea, it was just too weird. How could the future happen before the past?

Obi-Wan thought about that for many a sleepless night before he came to the conclusion that it was much more probable that Yoda had finally become senile and that one could not expect more than a rudimentary idea of logic from a mutated pea, anyway.

oOo

As the Sith kicked Obi-Wan off the catwalk, Qui-Gon glared at him.

_How rude_, he thought, unconsciously echoing Jar Jar's favourite phrase. Qui-Gon thought that his Padawan was one of the most polite people he knew (even during a fight, always adhering to his own very strict code of honour) and didn't deserve to be kicked like that. He was the only one who had the right to rebuke his apprentice, and _no one_ had the right to ignore the rules of a reasonably fair fight and simply kick Obi-Wan – and not just once – and Qui-Gon, too! That was decidedly the height of discourtesy.

His mouth a tight, thin line of disapproval, Qui-Gon viciously backhanded the dark warrior who toppled backwards and fell down to another walkway on a lower level. That would teach him to keep his manners in check, Qui-Gon thought. The Jedi Master took the chance to check on his Padawan, who was just climbing back onto solid ground. Obi-Wan didn't seem to be hurt – except maybe for his pride as the accomplished swordsman he usually was.

Having made sure that Obi-Wan was all right and picking himself up again, Qui-Gon followed his stripy opponent by jumping down to the lower level the Sith had landed on – and immediately Darth Maul's boot hit him again. It seemed the Sith was impervious to Qui-Gon's lesson.

With renewed determination, the Jedi Master attacked the Darksider. He would get some manners into that Sith's horned and obviously thick head yet. For never again wanting to teach another Padawan, he was quite the passionate teacher, ever lecturing and instructing everyone who was willing to listen, and even some who weren't willing, like, for example, a Sith who considered it perfectly acceptable to use any foul tricks he could think of in a fight, and who was clearly puzzled by the fact that the Jedi didn't answer in kind.

Maul backed away from the surprisingly fierce strikes of the old Jedi. He wondered where the sudden vigour came from. It seemed that, in spite of their rule of no attachment, the old man was fond of the brat Maul had so skilfully removed. Despite what he would call a "tactical retreat" should his Master ever find out about it, he sneered derisively at the Jedi even as he was backing off.

oOo

Obi-Wan took a deep breath to calm his racing heart and to _get his focus back on the here and now, where it belongs_, as Qui-Gon would tell him ever so often. He reached out to the Force, his constant companion that had been there for his whole life, and wrapped himself in its bright, warm light. The Force carried him up to the walkway – one that would have been unreachable otherwise – in a light-footed leap. Qui-Gon and the Sith were far ahead and quickly approaching another curiosity of Theed's underbelly.

A puzzled frown creased Obi-Wan's face. He stared at the strange contraption that was installed in the hallway leading towards what looked like a huge melting pit. Whatever it was, his Master was swiftly battling his way towards it, and Obi-Wan took off at a run to catch up with him as soon as his boots touched the ground.

Just as Qui-Gon and the Sith approached the eerily humming walls of red laser light, the translucent gates opened with an electronic sizzle to admit the fighters. Slowly but steadily, the Jedi Master pushed Darth Maul towards the seemingly bottomless pit at the end of the hallway. But just as Obi-Wan was racing towards them, the doors cycled shut again, shutting the Padawan out before he got even past the first one and also separating the two combatants.

The Sith seemed irritated and glowered fiercely at this obstacle that kept him from slaughtering his prey. He even touched one blade of his blood-red lightsaber to the laser barrier, but it seemed they were lightsaber-proof. Darth Maul snarled and started pacing, impatiently waiting for the barriers to open again.

Qui-Gon shut down his weapon and looked around. During their flight to Naboo, he had had quite a few conversations with Anakin, and the boy had advised him that it was simply _vital_ to collect as many coins as possible to get the much-needed bonus lives for the final fight. Qui-Gon couldn't spot any coins, and neither could he see any hidden extra lives. He shrugged and decided that he could at least save his game, another thing Anakin had urged him to do.

"Always save your game before the final fight," the boy had said, "because the epic battle at the end of a level is usually constructed to be quite difficult to master, and you will probably need more than just one try to defeat your enemy."

Qui-Gon shrugged and wondered just how exactly one saved his game. He really had no idea how to do that, so he simply kneeled down, closed his eyes and asked the Force to save his game for him.

oOo

Obi-Wan was deeply worried. Qui-Gon seemed to be tiring, and his Padawan was not there when he was needed. And all that kept him from his place at his Master's side were these stupid laser walls. Obi-Wan glared at these offending contraptions, once again wondering what their use might be.

If the Padawan weren't so preoccupied with the battle and so worried about his Master, he might have noticed the plaque right next to the first laser door. It was one of those signs usually found next to an exhibit in a museum, and it read:

_This feature is the latest acquisition of the Naboo Museum of Oddities. Unlike most other exhibits, like for example the bottomless pit in the next room, this work of art was originally constructed for an actual purpose as opposed to exclusively for the sake of art. It had been designed as an experiment to reduce the excessive running in the spacious corridors of Theed Palace. Special sensors measure the velocity of a person walking along the hallway. If the walking speed is at an acceptably measured level, the doors stay open, while they cycle shut if the person approaching is running. The doors are of course completely harmless, functioning like walls rather than like laser shields. The laser beams originate inside the walls and are __**refracted**__ by narrow mirrors to form the sheets of light._

_Unfortunately, the laser gates had quite an unexpected and undesired effect. Instead of reducing the running, they encouraged people to race along the hallways and stage competitions to find out how many gates they could pass before the shields closed. The most gates passed in one go were five out of a complete ten._

_Since the experiment failed spectacularly and caused numerous injuries (mostly bruises and a few concussions because people ran head-on into the solid walls of light), the laser doors were removed from the public hallways of Her Majesty's palace and reinstalled here in the halls of the Naboo Museum of Oddities in the lower floors of Theed Palace, with the hall of extremely narrow catwalks without protective railing and of the massive pillars of light on its one end and the bottomless __**abyss**__ that spans the whole diameter of Naboo on its other end. _

_A generous donation by His Honour F. Palpatine, the Senator of Naboo, enabled the purchase and relocation of this exceptional work of art. The Naboo Museum of Oddities would like to declare its gratitude for this noble gift and has thus named this corridor the Senator Palpatine Hallway in his honour._

But Obi-Wan's eyes were fixed on his Master, and so his questions, which were short-lived anyway given his current preoccupation and concern, remained unanswered. He also switched his lightsaber off, but unlike Qui-Gon, he was not in the right state of mind for meditation, and he didn't believe in saving one's game. The bad feeling had become almost overwhelming, the Force was practically screaming at him to _act_ and his heart was urging him to go and help Qui-Gon. If only he could do something!

Thankfully, the laser barriers didn't stay closed for long. Obi-Wan sensed the circuits that controlled the doors turning on, and he activated his lightsaber in nervous suspense. The doors started opening on Qui-Gon's end of the corridor, and as soon as the barrier was gone, the Jedi Master jumped to his feet and the fierce battle between Good and Evil resumed.

The gates opened one after another, and Obi-Wan sprinted down the corridor the second the last one had opened enough to let him through. He raced towards the circular room the battle had moved to. The Padawan could already hear the sizzle and crackle that announced the closing of the laser shields when he had yet to clear two of them. He pushed his legs to run a bit faster and begged the Force to let him reach his Master, but his prayers remained unheard. The last barrier closed right in front of his nose and Obi-Wan barely managed to stop without crashing into the sheet of light, which did look like it might fry him to a crisp should he so much as touch it, after all.

Obi-Wan could only watch in mounting frustration and worry as Qui-Gon battled the Sith. He could clearly see the tiny signs of fatigue in his Master's familiar movements, while his opponent seemed just as nimble as when the fight had started. Anxiousness and concern for his Master gnawed at Obi-Wan as he stood there, separated from Qui-Gon by nothing more than a sheet of something as essentially insubstantial as light.

Once the Padawan was trapped behind the last barrier and the Sith could focus completely on the Master without the apprentice stumbling in his way and interfering with his fighting, he stopped backing off and instead started a fierce attack. Now Qui-Gon suddenly found himself on the defence, and this time, it was the Jedi Master who had to retreat.

The icy hands of terror tightly gripped Obi-Wan as his Master disengaged and fell back. The Sith also noticed Qui-Gon's movements becoming marginally slower and bared his blackened teeth threateningly. Darth Maul didn't grant the Jedi Master any reprieve and doubled the speed of his attack.

Suddenly, the Sith smashed the hilt of his lightsaber in Qui-Gon's face. The Jedi stumbled back a few steps, but before he could recover, the Sith attacked again.

As Qui-Gon's chest was pierced by the blood-red blade, Obi-Wan's heart was stabbed by the sharp knife called pain.

"Nooooooooo!"

An anguished cry tore from his throat as he watched Qui-Gon fall to the ground, an expression of shock and disbelief on his Master's familiar features.

"Yeeeeeees!" Obi-Wan sensed more than heard the echo of an overjoyed answer which sounded distant somehow, as if it came from far away. The far-off shout made him start. Where had _that_ come from? Why was anyone shouting joyously in his mind when Obi-Wan was experiencing the worst moments of is life so far?

oOo

Anakin was running around wildly, jubilation and elation clearly written all over his face. He didn't quite know why, but the pilots were celebrating his victory over the computer game. Not that Anakin minded at all – in fact, he was busy joining the celebration at the top of his voice.

"Yippie!" he shouted. "That was just awesome! No, that was better than awesome. How I managed to blast them all into oblivion! That was – that was – that was just – the words to describe the feeling don't even exist yet. I will have to invent new words to fit my more-than-awesomeness."

Anakin pondered the overwhelming feelings of power and triumph that was spreading in his chest and tried to find the right words to describe them.

"It was terrific – no, fantastic – no, awesome – no, that still doesn't describe it. That was **funnerific**!" he shouted gleefully; glad to have finally found the right words to express his feelings. "It was **blobtastic**!"

Suddenly, his cheers were interrupted by a miserable cry full of pain and grief.

"Nooooooooo!"

Anakin looked around; his eyes searching for the source of the cry, although Anakin thought it sounded more like the shout had come from a great distance. Anakin shrugged off the apprehensiveness that had suddenly taken hold of him. He battled the forlorn, hollow cry with a shout of his own.

"Yeeeeeees!" he countered with all the euphoria and happiness he felt in this, his moment of success and glory. This was definitely the best moment in his life so far, the pilots were celebrating him, he was about to become a Jedi and maybe Padmé would thank him personally for saving the planet, and no sad little creep who shouted in his head was about to spoil that.

oOo

Obi-Wan stared in horror at his Master's usually tall and proud form lying crumpled on the cold floor right next to the round hole. Although the wound looked grave, Qui-Gon was still alive, and Obi-Wan refused to give up hope yet. They were living in a highly technical world with extremely advanced medical therapies. Scientists had only recently published their latest research results, according to which it was possible to keep alive even mortally wounded people who had lost both legs, one arm (and their mind) and what remained of them was covered in third-degree burns caused by, say, an unhealthily close proximity to lava. If he received medical help soon, Qui-Gon would be fine. Obi-Wan refused to believe otherwise.

Unfortunately, there was still the Sith who was pacing provocatively in front of the red laser barrier and who surely wouldn't wait patiently until Obi-Wan rushed his Master to a medical facility. The Sith glared at the Padawan, who returned the glare with just as much intensity. The dark Zabrak posed the greatest obstacle to Qui-Gon's rescue at the moment, and so Obi-Wan was determined to remove that obstacle as quickly as possible.

Obi-Wan breathed heavily, both to calm his fraying nerves and to suppress the worry and concern that welled up and threatened to constrict his throat. For once, his patience completely failed him and he was shaking and fidgeting in anticipation. Almost before the laser walls opened again, Obi-Wan ran forward to attack the Sith.

The pace of the battle suddenly increased compared to the earlier, rather sedate exchange of blows. Obi-Wan abandoned his usually favoured tactic of defence and fiercely attacked the red and black Sith. He didn't have any time to lose, Qui-Gon needed help as soon as possible. Surprised at the sudden intensity of the attack, Darth Maul backed off. All of a sudden, the Padawan didn't seem nearly as pathetic any more. Maul's yellow-tainted eyes widened in shock when the Jedi cleaved the hilt of his double-bladed saber in two. The Darksider found himself on the receiving end of a strong kick (Obi-Wan considered this an acceptable exception of his usual reluctance to hit or kick people because Qui-Gon's life was at stake) and landed on the floor with a painful thud. He barely managed to block Obi-Wan's next attack before he jumped to his feet again and backed off from his suddenly dangerous opponent. He tried kicking the Padawan again, but this time Obi-Wan was prepared. He somersaulted backwards and managed to avoid most of the impact.

The fight continued with unbridled fierceness.

And as it is with things you desperately try to remember one moment and don't exactly care to know about them a few minutes later, they suddenly hit you in the most inopportune moment possible. As it was, when Obi-Wan stared into the dark, yellow-framed **abysses** that were the Sith's eyes, he suddenly remembered where he had seen Darth Maul before. Just when the two opponents were in a saberlock, recognition hit Obi-Wan. Recognition was instantly followed by a powerful wave of the Dark Side which hit him barely a second later.

Once again, Obi-Wan found himself hanging on to a tiny handhold with nothing more than a huge expanse of air underneath him. True, he had been pretty surprised as he realized that this enemy was the same person who had offered him a ride back on Tattoine and whom he had bought a drink by way of saying thanks. Still, Obi-Wan was once again harshly reprimanding himself for his lack of concentration, especially now that every second that went by might be Qui-Gon's last.

The silent internal tirade only intensified when Obi-Wan's lightsaber fell past him and clattered down the bottomless pit.

The Sith paced at the edge of the pit like a lion along the bars of his cage, showering sparks down on Obi-Wan. He sneered derisively at the Jedi, who in the Sith's opinion was almost as dead as his Master would soon be. But Obi-Wan hadn't quite run out of tricks yet. Qui-Gon's lightsaber was still lying next to his Master, who, to Obi-Wan's dismay, was fading rapidly.

Obi-Wan looked up at the Sith, determination shining in his eyes instead of the hopelessness Darth Maul had expected. The Padawan was determined to end this fight as quickly as possible, for Qui-Gon's sake.

As Maul looked down at the Padawan, he suddenly got the feeling that he had seen the Jedi before. He wondered where that might have been, since he didn't usually socialize with their kind. He once again looked down, a puzzled frown on his striped face. Obi-Wan discreetly stretched out with a tiny tendril of the Force to retrieve Qui-Gon's lightsaber. Darth Maul was completely unaware of Obi-Wan's actions because he tried to remember where he had seen these blue eyes shining with determination before.

The realization that _this_ was the poor guy he had met in the desert of Tatooine in the middle of the night surprised the Sith so much that he didn't so much as react when Obi-Wan, who suddenly shot out of the pit, somersaulted over Maul's head and bisected him in one swift strike. A disbelieving and stunned look crossed his face just before he fell backwards.

As Obi-Wan watched the two halves of the Sith tumble down the hole in the ground, he seemed even more surprised than his opponent that this method had actually _worked_. He had expected a much longer fight. Obi-Wan had hoped for a chance to disarm or maybe trap the Sith at some point – surely the Council would want to question the first Sith to emerge in the last one thousand years. Right now, though, he was a lot more concerned for his Master than for his rather unexpected and lethal victory over the Sith.

In the end, Darth Maul, the rising star of the Sith, had to die because of the single act of compassion he had ever committed in his life – offering a lone man in the middle of the desert a ride. Unfortunately, he was too dead to appreciate the irony of this, and Obi-Wan was too preoccupied with his Master's condition. So the irony of a Sith dying because of the only good deed in his life went by completely unappreciated and even unnoticed, which caused irony to be mortally offended. It vowed to take revenge in the most cruel fashion it could think of. Maybe it would turn the Jedi's greatest hope into their downfall, or make the Sith Master get elected as the Chancellor of the Republic. That would seem like an appropriate vengeance for this unspeakable slight. With one last offended huff, it stalked off to bother someone else, someone who was more appreciative of its presence.

As soon as the danger Darth Maul posed to the Jedi had disappeared, Obi-Wan rushed to his Master's side. He kneeled down next to his Master and gently raised Qui-Gon's head off the cold, hard floor.

"No, it's too late," Qui-Gon gasped weakly.

"No," Obi-Wan protested, his voice full of sadness and denial.

"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon murmured, his voice devoid of its usual calm strength. "Promise-" Obi-Wan was ready to promise anything Qui-Gon might ask for - "Promise me you will train the boy." - except that.

Once again, Obi-Wan was pierced by a sharp pain, though this was completely unlike the one he had experienced when Qui-Gon had been stabbed. That had been as much the physical pain that had been filtering through their bond as it had been worry and anguish, but now the bond Obi-Wan had shared with his Master for the last thirteen years was slowly fading along with Qui-Gon's Force presence.

The Padawan was conflicted about his Master's dying wish. His brain told him to decline it politely but firmly and it decisively insisted he say something like: "**I'm disinclined to acquiesce to your request.**"

His instinct screamed at him to cry "Nooooo!" again at the top of his voice.

His Force-sense wholeheartedly agreed with that.

But his heart was faster than all of them. "Yes, Master," it answered in a quiet, miserable whisper. The loyalty and admiration and devotion he felt for Qui-Gon had won over the persistent bad feeling.

Qui-Gon raised one clammy, trembling hand to lightly touch his Padawan's cheek where one single tear was glistening.

"He is the Chosen One," Qui-Gon insisted, his voice trembling and barely above a whisper. "He will bring balance. Train him."

Qui-Gon's eyes closed and his head fell to the side. From one moment to the next, the only breathing that could be heard were Obi-Wan's strangled breaths, the only heartbeat that of a broken heart.

Qui-Gon Jinn died as he had lived and as he used to conduct his comm. calls: Talking about one of his projects and his faith in the Chosen One, all but ignoring his Padawan, and ending the talk without ever saying goodbye, leaving Obi-Wan with the feeling of an unfinished conversation and words left unsaid. Obi-Wan already longed to hear Qui-Gon's voice again, he wished that his Master had told him to mind the Living Force and to remember bigger fishes just one last time.

Obi-Wan caringly caught his Master's head. He couldn't believe it. He didn't _want_ to believe it. Qui-Gon was gone.

"You were my father, Qui-Gon," a broken-hearted whisper echoed through the room that suddenly seemed far too silent. "I loved you!"

oOo

Edited on 12th March, 2011


	32. Chapter 32

**Chapter 32**

Disclaimer: I own neither Star Wars nor Viagra – not that I would have any need of that ;-) And I would like to apologize in advance for the crude joke about Palpatine somewhere in this chapter.

oOo

Obi-Wan had no idea how long he had been sitting there, tightly holding his Master's slowly cooling body. To the grieving Padawan it felt like days, like years he spent kneeling on the cold floor, his thoughts on both everything and nothing at the same time.

His head was swirling with memories of Qui-Gon, but his heart felt empty – just as empty as the place in his mind where the bond with Qui-Gon used to be. The pain and grief was overwhelming, yet at the same time Obi-Wan felt numb and cold inside.

After what might have been just minutes as well as months Obi-Wan spent on the floor near the pit, cradling his fallen Master, shaking and mourning, his sense of duty got the better of him. Reluctantly, he stood up and immediately that part of the numbness that was located in his legs was replaced by a painful sting as the circulation returned to them. The newly orphaned Padawan stretched out a hand to steady himself against the wall until his legs were a bit more willing to cooperate. His gaze lingered on Qui-Gon's relaxed features. Except for the circular burn in the middle of his chest, he looked peaceful in death. As more tears threatened to fall, Obi-Wan gruffly wiped them away again.

He didn't want to leave Qui-Gon's side, yet there was no way he could carry the much larger man's body all the way back to the hangar – and he certainly wouldn't compromise the dignity of his deceased Master by dragging him. He stood there a moment longer, unwilling to leave. Somewhere in the general vicinity of the hangar, he sensed a bright young presence practically radiating with happiness, and he was loath to extinguish this flame of joy with the terrible tidings of Qui-Gon's death. Still further away but quickly approaching Naboo, Obi-Wan could also sense the familiar if still remote and thus hazy presences of Masters Windu and Mundi and most of the other Council members – no, _all_ of the other Council members, and could it really be that Master Yoda was on board, too? It had been many years since Yoda had left the comfort the Jedi Temple offered and faced the hardships space travel posed to him.

The fact that Master Yoda had actually left the Temple to come to Naboo was enough to startle Obi-Wan out of his sombre indecisiveness. The momentousness of the Sith's emergence had to be even greater than Obi-Wan had thought if it drew Yoda out of his swampy little apartment. The Council must have left Coruscant barely half a day after Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan had. So now that Qui-Gon was dead, they suddenly believed in the Sith, did they? And why did they arrive now? They must have left long before the Queen and her Jedi protectors had even talked to the Gungans. If they had planned to come anyway, as they obviously had, why had the most powerful Masters of the whole Jedi Order sent them ahead? Had they come with them instead, Qui-Gon might still be…

Obi-Wan silenced that thought before he could think it through. His Master's death was not their fault. Not theirs. For now, he refused to think about whose fault it had been, or else he would never be able to face Anakin and the Council – though the question of who was to blame would inevitably return with the night, and Obi-Wan dreaded the answer to this question.

For now, someone had to inform the Queen of the Council's arrival. They were still a good way off and would not arrive for another two hours or so. That should leave enough time to arrest the few members of the Trade Federation's invasion army that were not droids and to prepare everything for their arrival. It was time to leave his Master and talk to Padmé and Anakin – as much as he dreaded that prospect.

Obi-Wan stared down at his hands. They were still trembling. There was no way he could face anyone like that, especially not an exuberant Anakin. Anakin, who had suddenly become _his_ responsibility. Anakin, who had just more or less lost his mother, and who had now also lost the man he had adopted as a father. There was no easy way to tell such news as Obi-Wan had to tell. The least he must do was to be strong for Anakin. The boy would surely need someone to hold on to, now that Qui-Gon was no longer there to guide him and take care of him.

So Obi-Wan locked his emotions away deep inside him, leaving behind only the numbness, at least for the moment. He would have to deal later with his own conflicting feelings both on his Master's death and the legacy Qui-Gon left him – Anakin.

With a last sigh full of sadness and regret and a last, rueful glance at Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan left the Naboo Museum of Oddities in order to find Anakin and the Queen.

He had to suppress a vicious string of swears when the stupid laser doors closed right in front of his nose – he couldn't know that, but they had a slight malfunction that had never been fixed because the visitors of the museum wanted the doors to close when they approached them, anyway. To Obi-Wan, it seemed that either the stupid doors or the Force really hated him.

oOo

Anakin had just met up with Padmé and was about to receive the well-deserved praise for his heroic deed when the moment was completely ruined by none other than Obi-Wan. Just as Padmé was about to bend down and give him an actual kiss on his forehead, which was destined to be Anakin's first kiss from someone who wasn't his mother, she spotted the Padawan returning through the same door he had used to exit the hangar about half an hour earlier.

Anakin pouted petulantly at this foiled first kiss, and his first kiss from _Padmé_ at that. He glowered at Obi-Wan and cursed him for returning right then. Padme's eyes now were glued to the approaching Padawan instead of Anakin's elfin features, and the boy felt a stab of jealousy. Could it be that Obi-Wan was trying to turn Padmé against him?

But Anakin's glare soon turned into a frown of confusion, and Padme's delighted beam at seeing her favourite Jedi return unharmed dimmed and gradually became sorrowful. Anakin had noticed that Qui-Gon was especially conspicuous by his continued absence, but no one noticed the tiny signs of sadness, the slight sag to Obi-Wan's shoulders, the hesitancy in his steps, the paleness of his face, the dullness of eyes that had held that ever-present sparkle of humour, even though that sparkle had sometimes been buried deeply beneath something else. Now it was gone.

Padmé, who had been looking forward to see her favourite Jedi again, wondered what might have happened. She thought that the Padawan looked like someone had destroyed all his much-loved clothes. Her eyes widened in sympathy when she noticed that indeed, Obi-Wan's robe was missing. Maybe the striped guy with the terrible taste for overly dramatic makeup had cut Obi-Wan's favourite piece of clothing to ribbons? That would in Padmé's eyes certainly qualify as an acceptable cause for a major breakdown, even though the robe hadn't had nearly enough glamour and had been way too unfashionable in her opinion.

Obi-Wan made his way towards the small group slowly but determinedly. His eyes were solely on Anakin. For once foregoing formal protocol and even courtesy, he didn't acknowledge the Queen and her entourage of handmaidens, pilots and security officers but kneeled down in front of Anakin. His movements seeming tired and lacking their usual grace. Anakin's frown deepened along with his confusion as Obi-Wan put a hand on his bony, slim shoulder and looked him straight in the eyes. A cold dread suddenly gripped Anakin. He didn't know it, but Obi-Wan's bad feeling had finally become contagious – and it had infected Anakin.

"Anakin - ," Obi-Wan said gravely. He stopped, swallowed once, and started a second time.

"Anakin, I bear grave tidings. It is my terrible obligation to inform you of… of Qui-Gon's demise," he said, his voice steady and his expression stony but his tones grave. Padmé was shocked both at the terrible news and at the seeming coldness with which Obi-Wan informed them. He sounded more like an indifferent politician talking about the needs of his people when all he really cared about was how to gain more power instead of someone who had just lost someone important to him.

Obi-Wan, though, dealt with the difficult and overwhelming situation by taking refuge in exaggerated formality. For fear of making a mistake in such a complicated situation, he preferred to do everything overly correct. He never thought that this might make him appear cold and unfeeling to other people.

Padmé gasped in shock at this news. The confused frown on Anakin's face only deepened.

"First of all, I don't see you bear anything, and second: It's your _what_ to inform me of _what_?" he asked, completely bewildered.

Padmé watched in sympathy as Obi-Wan struggled for words.

"Anakin, I'm sorry. Qui-Gon is… he is… dead," Obi-Wan finished tonelessly. He was struggling to keep tight reins on his emotions or else they would completely run away with him.

A tense silence stretched through the crowded hangar. Anakin's eyes first widened, then narrowed in disbelief and suspicion.

"No, he's not. Nobody can kill a Jedi. You lie!" he shouted, pointing an accusing finger at a stunned Obi-Wan.

The poor Padawan blanched even further. Anakin's blunt rejection of the words he had fought so hard to say was both unexpected and unexpectedly wounding. The boy was forcing him to face a painful truth he was still unable to absorb, much less accept himself.

Anakin stared fiercely at Obi-Wan. Jedi were invincible, they simply were not killed, and definitely not by the stripey devil he had seen earlier. Anakin was completely ignorant about anything related to fashion, but Padmé had told him that stripes were _so_ last year – whatever that meant. He still held fast to the belief that nobody could kill a Jedi, especially if they were "_so_ last year".

But Obi-Wan only repeated what he had said. "Qui-Gon is dead."

The words which fell from his lips were lifeless, and they lay there on the ground between Anakin and Obi-Wan as if they were also dead. The expression of mistrust and doubt on the boy's face crumpled and was replaced by one of shock and disbelief.

"He won't come back?" Anakin asked in a dejected whisper.

Obi-Wan slowly shook his head.

Anakin couldn't believe it, didn't want to believe it. But Qui-Gon was not there to pat him reassuringly on his shoulder, to give him a rewarding smile, to be proud of him for mastering that difficult video game, so it had to be true. Although Anakin had only known the Jedi Master for a few short days, he already missed him terribly. His eyes were quickly filling with moisture that soon spilled down his cheeks. The world looked watery and unclear through the haze of tears, but Anakin could plainly see that Obi-Wan was not crying. Anakin decided that the Padawan couldn't have liked his Master very much, because although Obi-Wan looked solemn and maybe a bit paler than usual, Anakin couldn't see the small signs of heartbreak Obi-Wan was carefully trying to hide.

The Padawan hesitantly stretched out a hand as if to wipe away the tears streaming down Anakin's face. Anakin gave Obi-Wan a resentful glare – he thought that the Padawan should at least pretend to be saddened by his Master's death, no matter what their relationship had been. Obi-Wan, though, seemed incredibly formal and stiff, and not like he cared at all. Anakin turned away from Obi-Wan and fled into Padmé's open arms, buried his tearstained face in the soft fabric of her dress and started sobbing inconsolably. Padmé stroked Anakin's hair and tried to soothe the distraught boy.

Obi-Wan got back up, regretting that Anakin had rejected the comfort he had tentatively offered – too tentatively, it seemed. He bowed somewhat shakily to the Queen, who was holding a trembling and sobbing boy in her arms, quietly informed them that the Jedi Council was approaching and when they would arrive before he excused himself.

oOo

The Padawan hesitantly approached the part of the hangar where the fight with the Sith had started. He had to recover the robes he and Qui-Gon had shed earlier. He was undecided if he wished that the robes were still there as they had left them or that someone had already picked them up.

Next to the brown heap of cloth that was Obi-Wan's robe lay a darker heap. Obi-Wan's hand trembled ever so slightly as he picked up the piece of clothing that had been discarded so casually just a short time ago. It still smelled like the swampy water they had swum through earlier that day. To Obi-Wan, it seemed like that had been weeks ago.

Obi-Wan slowly walked along the corridors and through the halls where the battle had taken them. He was returning to his Master's side because he couldn't bear the thought of Qui-Gon lying there all alone. He carefully wrapped Qui-Gon in his robe. It covered the lethal lightsaber wound in the middle of his Master's chest, restoring the dignity that had always belonged to Qui-Gon. The deceased Jedi Master looked peaceful, as if he was just meditating. Obi-Wan would almost have been tempted to stretch out his hand and rouse his Master if it weren't for the aching void where their bond had been that destroyed the illusion – that and the fact that Qui-Gon usually didn't meditate lying sprawled on the floor.

He waited next to Qui-Gon until people arrived to carry him away.

oOo

"Shhh, it's all right," Padmé tried to calm the shivering, sobbing boy in her arms. She knew that it would not be alright, not with Qui-Gon dead, but what Anakin needed right now was comfort, not the bitter truth, and especially not in the coldly unemotional way Obi-Wan had delivered it. She, too, had been pretty shaken by Qui-Gon's death, even though she hadn't been too fond of the Jedi Master and his unconventional and sometimes outright mad ideas. Anakin, who had adopted Qui-Gon as his surrogate father right on the spot, was completely devastated.

"He- he- he promised he'd be there," Anakin sobbed. "I was to be his new Pa- Padawan. I wa- want to be a Jedi!"

"Oh Anakin," Padmé sighed. "You are such a wonderful and bright young man, and I'm sure you'll make a great Jedi," she reassured him.

The boy perked up a bit at Padmé's praise, but still his future looked pretty bleak to him. If he couldn't become a Jedi, he would probably have to return to Tatooine and live with his mother again. Not that he didn't love his mother, but he was not so sure that he would get along all that well with her future husband and his kids. Wasn't it that stepfathers and their older offspring traditionally were mean towards their younger stepbrothers – especially after his mother had died? He didn't want to become the male (but in his eyes no less good-looking) counterpart of Cinderella – though he wouldn't mind marrying royalty, he thought with an appreciative glance at Padmé. But there was no way he would _ever_ wear shoes of glass. Never ever.

Maybe he could get to marry Padmé without all the fairytale story first if she allowed him to stay on Naboo. So he started whining again.

"But who will take care of me? The Jedi Council scares me, they're all weird, and Obi-Wan doesn't like me. It seems he didn't even like his Master very much. Besides them, I don't know any other Jedi. Can't I stay here with you, as your consort – erm, I mean as your guard or anything?" Anakin said, his voice quivering with fear and uncertainty.

"Don't worry, Anakin. You will become a Jedi, I'm sure of that. And I don't think Obi-Wan is quite as bad as you are thinking right now, either," she said softly, though at the moment she, too, had her doubts about that. Obi-Wan had seemed like a nice guy, and truth be told, Padmé had been smitten with him from the moment he had dropped down from that balcony to rescue her. She would never have thought that he was so heartless as to be more bothered by the loss of his robe than by the loss of his Master. Padmé decided to talk to her handmaidens about the young Jedi. They knew him much batter, after all, having stayed on the ship while she had gone with Qui-Gon to explore Tatooine.

With a tearful smile, she added: "And for all I know, there really is no need at all to fear the Council – well, except maybe for Master Windu, who is really scary. But just look at Master Yoda, for instance. He's small, and with that I mean he's _tiny_, and he's wrinkly and green. His manner of speech is completely warped! He even fails at putting the words of a simple sentence in the correct order."

"Yes, you're right," Anakin agreed tentatively. "He doesn't speak English, the only language he speaks is **Failglish**," he joked weakly.

Padmé did him the favour and gave a half-hearted laugh. If it helped to cheer Anakin up…

The young Queen entrusted her loyal decoy Sabé with the task of preparing the Council's arrival Obi-Wan had warned them of. She was to assemble all the guards and the pilots that had remained in Theed and organize the security measures necessary for the handing over of the Viceroy and his assistant. Then she focused her attention on a small boy in desperate need of her comfort.

oOo

While Anakin was grieving in Padmé's comforting embrace and Obi-Wan struggled with his own grief somewhere no one could see him, Sabé did an admirable job of organising the people of Naboo. She sent out some of the pilots and soldiers to free the prisoners who were still in camps, then she prepared for the Trade Federation's viceroy and his aide to be brought back to Coruscant for their trial.

About two hours later, a big ship that might have been red when it had been new but whose colour had faded to an unfavourable pink landed on the wide avenue that led to Theed Palace. The ship's shape clearly stated that it had originally been purchased because the owner felt the need to compensate something – and a ridiculously expensive and extravagant speeder was not enough.

All the Royal Guards that still owned a passable uniform were assembled in neat rows. Padmé had found the time to change into her royal attire again, and stood surrounded by her handmaidens as personal bodyguards. To her right stood Captain Panaka, Anakin, who still looked utterly miserable, and Obi-Wan.

Padmé used the opportunity to gloat at Nute Gunray. "Now, Viceroy, you're going to have to go back to the Senate and explain all this. Didn't I tell you that it was a bad idea to annoy me? I told you I had some friends who are powerful, and together we certainly kicked your sorry rears. Now it's you who won't get to phone your friends and you who have to stay at home when everyone else is invited to the coolest party of the year. You can kiss your pocket money goodbye!" she droned in her flat royal voice, thought the glee could clearly be heard in her tone.

Panaka didn't feel that this would impress the Trade Federation's big boss quite as much as Padmé seemed to think, so he stepped forward and sneered: "I think you can kiss your trade franchise goodbye, too."

As they were led away, Rune Haaku asked anxiously: "Do you think they will really take our pokey money away?"

"I hope not!" was Nute Gunray's equally fearful answer. "What would we do without our pocket money? They can't take that away!"

The two Neimoidians were led towards their cells aboard the Republic ship, whispering apprehensively about what would happen to their pocket money and if the Senate would dare ground them.

Obi-Wan also walked towards the ship to meet the Council. Anakin closely followed him. The boy eyed the wide robe billowing behind Obi-Wan. It looked like it might just be wide enough so that he could hide in there from the Council, but Anakin was not quite sure that Obi-Wan would allow that.

Palpatine approached them with a huge fake smile plastered all over his face. There was the incompetent Jedi fool who had killed his apprentice – and now he had to commend him for it, too! Palpatine wondered just how that pathetic Padawan had managed to kill Darth Maul. The Sith Lord unobtrusively looked for a taint of the Dark Side in the young Jedi's Force signature, but he could find none. Pity, that. Sidious would have enjoyed turning that one to the Dark Side, but it just seemed like too much of an effort when the death of his oh-so-wonderful Master hadn't even done so much as put the seed of darkness in the bright presence. Grudgingly, the Sith Master had to admit that apparently, the Padawan must have won by fair means without touching the Dark Side – even if Darth Maul certainly hadn't fought fair.

Hiding his disgust behind his best politician's smile, Palpatine acknowledged the Padawan's deep bow which was quickly imitated by the boy at his side.

"We are indebted to you for your bravery, Obi-Wan Kenobi," he said as quickly as courtesy allowed. It spoke volumes about the Padawan's turbulent emotions barely concealed behind a fragile façade of control that he didn't answer to the insincere praise. Or maybe it was just because Obi-Wan disliked politicians and was in no mood to treat this particularly dishonest newly elected Chancellor with any more courtesy than was absolutely necessary. Or maybe it was because Palpatine didn't even give him time to answer before turning to the boy standing next to Obi-Wan.

To Sidious, Anakin looked like a gift wrapped especially for him. The boy's presence was so bright as to be almost blinding, but there were tiny shadows in that brilliant light that could undoubtedly be used to the Sith's advantage. For now, though, he would just wait and watch and let someone else to the undeniably hard work of raising a child with emotions as impulsive and a temper as deliciously volatile as Anakin's.

"And you, young Skywalker," Palpatine said, his phoney smile becoming even wider and voice dripping with dishonesty, though Anakin was much too naïve to recognize it. "We will watch your career with great interest."

The most powerful man in the Republic – politically speaking, at least, because no one knew about his Darker Side yet - clasped Anakin's shoulder in a friendly fashion before he walked off towards the Queen.

A light frown creased Obi-Wan's face, and at Palpatine's last words he couldn't quite suppress a shudder. He felt like someone had dropped a cold weight into his stomach. Chancellor Palpatine immediately went of a few steps on Obi-Wan's personal ladder of politicians he liked least. For some reason, the innocuous smile, the fatherly way Palpatine smiled at Anakin and the greedy glint carefully concealed in the Chancellor's eyes scared Obi-Wan, though he had no idea why that was so. This politician didn't seem much worse than many others he had met, and yet no amount of reasoning could banish the icy horror that had gripped him.

Obi-Wan had no time to further explore that bad feeling, though, because the Council in its full glory was parading down the extended ramp of the Republic ship. Reverently, he bowed to this assembly consisting of some of the wisest and at the same time weirdest individuals of the Known Galaxy. Once again, Anakin followed his lead, though this time the boy seemed less ready to show the proper respect.

Anakin could still remember the way they had slighted him with their high-and-mighty manners. And even now, Anakin could not hear one single one of them mutter their condolences, neither to him nor to Obi-Wan. Anakin followed the Padawan as much as for the guiding hand Obi-Wan had put on his shoulders as for the lack of another place to go. Padmé was dressed up as her Queen persona right now and seemed as approachable as an iceberg - not that Anakin had ever seen one of those, but he imagined they must look just as white and as cold as Queen Amidala did.

Compared to that, even Obi-Wan in his current state of emotional isolation seemed friendly and cordial. Anakin just hoped that the Padawan would come around soon, because if he had to stand any more of the uncomfortable silences where Obi-Wan just stared into nothingness or the toneless and unbearably formal answers Obi-Wan had given to Anakin, he would surely go crazy. If Anakin's new Jedi protector didn't revert back to his former much friendlier and much more helpful self, Anakin vowed he would **facesponge** Obi-Wan to snap him out of it, never mind that that would be terribly disrespectful and the Padawan would certainly not appreciate Anakin's efforts. And that Anakin had no clear idea what exactly doing a **facesponge** on someone included.

oOo

As Palpatine walked towards Queen Amidala, his phoney smile widened even more, impossible as that may seem. He stopped in front of this young and naïve Queen who had so wonderfully served his plans and just beamed at her for a few seconds, looking much more like a proud uncle than an evil Sith Lord who had just been put in control of the whole Republic.

Even Queen Amidala couldn't help but smile back at the beaming politician. At least someone who was not weighed down by Qui-Gon's death and who could sincerely and freely rejoice in Naboo's liberation.

"Congratulations on your election, Chancellor," she complimented Palpatine.

For a second, the beam on the Chancellor's face wavered and dimmed in perplexity.

"How did you know I had problems with… Erm, I mean, it took quite a few of these little blue pills, but the result was, let us say, satisfactory. But I still have no idea how you learned about my rather intimate little problem," Palpatine squirmed.

Padmé flushed a bright red underneath her makeup when after a few seconds, she realized she had just learned something she would rather not have known.

"I'm sorry, Chancellor, but I think you misunderstood. I was congratulation you on your election as Supreme Chancellor, not on your-"

"Ah, yes. Thank you very much, Your Majesty," Palpatine interrupted the teenage Queen before she could cause a fit of giggles among the handmaidens in earshot – and besides, it was not a topic Palpatine wanted to discuss with the Queen of Naboo in public. In fact, he didn't want to discuss in with anyone, neither in public nor privately. An embarrassed blush covered the politician's otherwise still smiling face.

Palpatine recovered first from the awkward moment.

"Your boldness has allowed me, the most evil Sith Lord in the last thousand years, to become ruler of the Republic… erm, I mean, your boldness has saved our people, Your Majesty. It's you who should be congratulated," he quickly corrected himself. Padmé had taken a bit longer to recover, so she had missed Palpatine's involuntary revelation of his real identity, and the Sith Lord's secret was safe. "Together, we shall bring peace and prosperity to the Republic."

Anakin was genuinely impressed with this great man who seemed to have exactly the same high aims as he did. The boy was convinced that when it came to freeing the slaves, he could find a powerful ally in Palpatine. It seemed Anakin had finally found someone who shared his aims and would help him achieve the impossible – peace and prosperity for the Republic, or even better for the whole Galaxy.

Author's note: Thanks to all the loyal reviewers who didn't leave when updates got a bit scarce – you guys rock!

oOo

Edited on 12th March, 2011


	33. Chapter 33

**Chapter 33**

Author's note: This chapter contains a special goodie for you: Finally, the answer to the hairy question of what (aside from the obvious reason of making him look older) made Obi-Wan grow a beard, of all things! I hope you'll like my explanation for that.

Disclaimer: Possession is forbidden for a Jedi ;-P

oOo

Obi-Wan waited until the newly elected Chancellor was out of earshot before talking again. For some reason, that man made his skin crawl with uneasiness. Obi-Wan blamed it on a fit of irrational paranoia probably caused by Qui-Gon's death – why else would he get the feeling that the Chancellor of the Republic wanted to take over the whole Galaxy? How did that make sense when Palpatine already ruled the majority of it?

The Padawan tried to get through the Council Members who were effectively shielding Master Yoda. There was no way of approaching the venerable green Master respectfully when he would have to talk over Master Windu's and Master Mundi's heads to do it, not that he would have been able to do that, anyway. Unfortunately, there was also no way to squeeze through the seemingly impenetrable wall of Council Members respectfully. Obi-Wan, and therefore by default, also Anakin, were trailing behind them, distantly reminding Mace of lost dogs trailing behind someone who had a morsel of food in his pocket.

The intimidating Master slowed his step so that he walked next to Obi-Wan.

Mace had been shocked by Qui-Gon's death, too. The unconventional Master had been a very good friend of his, even though they had had quite a few quarrels since Mace had been appointed a seat on the Council. But Mace's sorrow paled in comparison to what the small boy at Obi-Wan's side was radiating, and the cool nothingness where Obi-Wan's bright Force presence should have been effectively told the Jedi Master all that the Padawan was hiding behind these strong shields of control.

That alone would have been enough to melt the daunting Master's heart. When he caught the despairing look in Obi-Wan's eyes, he felt like he had to comfort the grieving apprentice and the poor boy at his heels.

"Oh, stop looking like someone rained on your parade. You are a Jedi," he said in the softest, most comforting voice he could manage – which unfortunately was neither very soft nor very comforting. He had mean it as some kind of reassurance both for Obi-Wan and for Anakin, whose place within the Order had not been all that safe the last time they had spoken.

Anakin sniffled loudly, and Obi-Wan's shields only tightened further had his back straightened even more than it already had.

"Sorry, Master Windu," he instantly apologized. "I would like a word with Master Yoda, please."

"Of course, Padawan Kenobi," Master Windu answered. Then he raised his voice and shouted: "Oi, Yoda! Someone here who wants to talk to you!"

The ancient Master slowly turned around – and to both Obi-Wan's and Anakin's eternal surprise shouted back: "Oi, Mace! Who does?"

Before Mace and Yoda could continue their exceedingly and exaggeratedly loud conversation – they were only about five meters apart, and the other Council Members had stepped back once the exchange had begun – Obi-Wan quietly requested: "Master Yoda, may I please have a word with you?"

"Of course, have a word with me, you may," Master Yoda acquiesced, still talking a bit louder than strictly necessary. "Which word is it you want to have with me?"

For a moment the Padawan looked taken aback before he carefully answered: "Um, actually, it's more than just one word, Master Yoda. It's more like a few sentences, or rather a whole conversation, if you don't mind."

Obi-Wan was incredibly relieved when Master Yoda simply agreed to that without further complications.

"Use this room here, we shall," Yoda decreed, randomly pointing at one of the doors in the vicinity.

Anakin, who had been watching the exchange with curiosity and mounting frustration – to him, it seemed the whole Council was a bit slow on the uptake – shouted exasperatedly: "No, you can't go in there. It's the girl's bathroom. Men and ugly little green shrimpy thingies are not allowed in there."

Obi-Wan gave him an admonishing glare, but before he could say a word, Master Yoda started chuckling. It was a strange, gravelly sound, and it took a moment before Anakin could identify it as an expression of amusement.

"Right you are, young Skywalker," Yoda agreed. "But I think that not many would agree with your description of young Obi-Wan. Certain, I am, that call him an ugly green shrimpy little thingy, the handmaidens would not."

For a second, complete silence ruled in the hallway. The look of reproach on Obi-Wan's face turned into one of astonishment and embarrassment. Anakin's face split in a wide if still somewhat shaky grin, both for getting away with his insolence and because he imagined Obi-Wan as some kind of Yoda-like creature, but with a shock of red hair and a deadly serious expression on his pea-coloured face as he taught Anakin about the Jedi Code in the green Master's characteristic backward syntax.

Mace unsuccessfully tried to stifle a giggle, but he wasn't very successful – the sound that eventually escaped him despite his best efforts sounded like something halfway between a snort and a squeak. The other Council Members were shocked and outraged by this boy's impertinence to different degrees. While Master Mundi looked about ready to bite Anakin's head off for the remark, Master Yaddle was barely perturbed, probably because she was rather fond of ugly little green shrimpy thingies and besides, she was one herself, so she didn't consider calling people one an insult.

A loud "Harrumph!" from Yoda thankfully put an end to the dreadfully embarrassing moment.

"Go in here, then, we shall," the diminutive Master decided, and hobbled into the empty room he had indicated, dismissing the rest of the Council with a flick of his wrist and leaving it to Obi-Wan to follow him.

The Padawan quickly turned to Anakin and told him to find Padmé or her handmaidens, who had grown quite fond of the boy and thus would surely take care of him until Obi-Wan returned. Then, he hurriedly followed the venerable Master. If he had turned around, he could have seen Anakin skipping off towards the throne room, his sadness about Qui-Gon's death already replaced by elation. Obi-Wan had said that the handmaidens had grown fond of him! Anakin wondered if that included Padmé, too. Maybe there was still a chance of him marrying her, despite Obi-Wan's good looks and the magical attraction most females felt for him.

oOo

The room Yoda had chosen for their conversation was a high-ceilinged chamber with a stunning view over the spectacular landscape Naboo had to offer – a view that was entirely lost on both Obi-Wan, who was much too troubled to notice anything like that, and on Yoda, too, because he wasn't tall enough to look over the windowsills, although they were set pretty low in the wall.

Obi-Wan kneeled down near the middle of the pattern created by different kinds of marble artistically inlaid in the floor and respectfully waited for the old Master to start the conversation. It was a gesture of respect and humility towards Yoda – Obi-Wan imagined that it was not exactly pleasant to look up someone's nostrils if you wanted to look them in the face – and would hopefully keep the little green devil from whacking his shins with that infernal stick he suspected Yoda carried solely for this very reason.

Yoda shuffled around the kneeling Padawan a few times. There were quite a few important things he needed to tell Obi-Wan, and he wanted to do it right, with as little backwards talk as possible.

He harrumphed a few more times, thinking about what he should tell Obi-Wan, and how he should do it.

Then, he decided to buy himself some more time by letting Obi-Wan talk first.

"Talk to me, you wanted?" he asked, prompting the Padawan.

"Yes, Master Yoda. I wanted to talk to you about Anakin."

Yoda seemed not exactly pleased by Obi-Wan's choice of topic, but the Padawan was undeterred.

"With his last words, Master Qui-Gon asked me to train Anakin as my Padawan, and I intend to honour that promise," Obi-Wan said, glad that his voice didn't waver when he said his Master's name.

Obi-Wan was not exactly happy with the situation he found himself in. He was not even a Knight yet, and already he wanted to take on a Padawan. Qui-Gon must have had more of an effect on him that he had thought, because here he was, already getting in trouble with the Council when he had vowed that he had had more than his fair share of that as Qui-Gon's Padawan and would never deliberately incense the august Members of the Jedi High Council. If he could honour his Master's memory with his defiance, though, he was willing to even face the wrath of the entire Council.

This time, Yoda's harrumph sounded undeniably displeased. It was quickly followed by a resigned sigh. Now that Qui-Gon was dead, it was finally time to tell Obi-Wan. The reason for the prolonged silence about Obi-Wan's knighting, which had been way overdue anyway, was literally gone. Still, Yoda had no intention of letting him know that he had passed his trials a few years ago. The less Obi-Wan knew about that, the better.

"Confer on you the level of Jedi Knight, the Council does," Yoda finally blurted out. It was the truth, from a certain point of view, after all, though most certainly not in the way Obi-Wan would assume.

These words which Obi-Wan had anticipated for so long completely failed to cause the feelings he had always imagined would accompany them. Now that he had finally been knighted, Obi-Wan thought that he would gladly have stayed a Padawan until his hair turned grey if that meant he could have spent the years at Qui-Gon's side.

And didn't becoming a Knight require actual trials? To his knowledge, Obi-Wan hadn't passed a single one of them. When he said as much, though, Yoda simply waved his concerns aside.

"Passed your trials, you have. The fight with the Sith alone, count as trial it would," Yoda firmly stated, once again narrowly skirting around telling the young Jedi the complete truth. Yoda's stick rapped on the ground threateningly. Obi-Wan was quite sure that the next thing to be rapped would be his shins.

Obi-Wan was willing to concede that his battle with the Sith might count as the Trials of Skill and Courage – it was quite common practice that these traits were tested by a fight against the simulacrum of one or multiple Sith. Still, he hadn't felt very skilful during the battle, but more like an inexperienced youngling getting distracted by just about everything from the tiger's corpse to his own wayward concerns, and no matter from which point of view he looked at it, he couldn't find any skill in the way he had allowed the Sith to throw him into abysses not once but twice.

It had definitely been a Trial of Spirit, though. Obi-Wan had been faced with his two innermost fears, both of which centred around Qui-Gon. After the difficult start of their relationship as Master and Padawan, and especially after that episode in the Council Chamber where Qui-Gon wanted to replace him, Obi-Wan had dreaded another rejection by his Master. Still, that fear paled in comparison to the terror of losing Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan had certainly faced both of these fears again during the last few hours, but unlike that battle with the Sith, the battle with his emotions was far from over.

Also, if that fight should have been his Trials of Insight, Obi-Wan thought that he had failed abysmally. He hadn't seen the danger Qui-Gon was in, and he had only figured out the mechanism of the ray shields as it was too late. The golden plaque telling about the characteristics had gone completely unnoticed in the heat of battle, and only as he passed it the third time had Obi-Wan finally read it. If he had walked towards the fight more sedately, he wouldn't have been locked between the laser gates at all.

The most debatable one would be the Trial of the Flesh, though. Surely, a few bruises couldn't count as an appropriate trial, be they shaped like the sole of a Sithly boot or not.

When Obi-Wan objected and asked for the real, official trials, though, Yoda flat-out denied him. What the newly made Knight couldn't know as no one had informed him about it was that he had passed all of his Trials years ago, and so he couldn't retake them. Yoda had to think of something else to do, then, because he wasn't willing to tell Obi-Wan the truthful truth instead of the truth from a certain, very convenient point of view.

The ancient green Master hobbled to and fro a few times in front of Obi-Wan, sighing and harrumphing a lot. Suddenly, his eyes lit up.

He hobbled towards Obi-Wan, who was still kneeling on the floor, and asked him: "Really want to take young Skywalker as your apprentice, you do?"

Even before he had finished the question, Yoda swung his walking stick and forcefully hit Obi-Wan's shin with it.

Yoda thought that the loud crack echoing through the chamber sounded quite satisfying.

Obi-Wan begged to differ. He rubbed his aching shins, wondering what on Coruscant that had been for. Still, one could never be too sure of that with the wrinkly green one, and Obi-Wan had long suspected that Yoda got some twisted sense of sadistic pleasure from randomly thwacking people. It was probably one of the quirks he had developed with increasing age – and, as was sometimes whispered, with increasing senility.

Still rubbing his protesting shins, Obi-Wan simply answered: "Yes, Master Yoda."

The wrinkly face of Master Yoda got even more wrinkly when it split into a smile.

"Good," he said. "Shown determination, you have, in the face of great pain. Pass the Trial of the Flesh, you just did."

Obi-Wan didn't quite know what to make of that. But although he wanted to have real trials, not only because he hoped that then he would feel more like an actual knight, but also because then nobody – especially not he himself – could possibly ever doubt his status as a Jedi Knight, Obi-Wan decided not to argue with Master Yoda any more than absolutely necessary. Still, it seemed that arguing was in order anyway, since Master Yoda continued:

"But agree with your taking this boy as your Padawan learner, I do not."

Obi-Wan had feared something like that might happen. Suddenly, he found himself fighting to take on a Padawan when he was still unsure and unconvinced that he could deal with one.

He still had a very bad feeling about Anakin becoming a Jedi – but he had promised Qui-Gon. No bad feeling in the entire galaxy would keep him from fulfilling Qui-Gon's last wish.

"Qui-Gon believed in him," Obi-Wan countered. That, at least, was something he could say with conviction – unlike anything else pertaining to Anakin, of which Obi-Wan was not sure at all.

Yoda sighed deeply. It seemed that Obi-Wan was determined to follow in his Master's footsteps when it came to being a nuisance to both the Council as a whole and the Councillors as individuals. And Yoda feared that as Qui-Gon's Padawan, Obi-Wan had learned from the best.

"The Chosen One the boy may be," Yoda conceded, mostly because he knew that he couldn't really do anything against Qui-Gon's renowned obstinacy, not even if an echo of it lived on in Qui-Gon's Padawan.

"Nevertheless," he continued, "grave danger I fear in his training."

Although inwardly Obi-Wan could understand and even agree with Master Yoda's opinion, to the outside he still presented that cool façade of emotionless calm. He didn't want to argue with the head of the Council about something he was still uncertain of. He was also not convinced that it was a good idea to train Anakin, but since Qui-Gon's death that had become irrelevant. He would do it, and he would do his best in a situation that was new and confusing and that he was neither prepared for nor experienced enough to deal with.

"Master Yoda, I gave Qui-Gon my word. I will train Anakin!" Obi-Wan stated adamantly. "Without the approval of the Council, if I must," he answered to Yoda's grunt of disapproval.

There, he had said it. May Yoda chastise him for his attachment or scold him for his rebelliousness, he would not back down. The decision had been instantaneous, for once without thinking about the pros and cons and the consequences. He would fulfil Qui-Gon's last wish.

"I will do what I must," he added for good measure. He wanted this to be clear: if the Council didn't allow him to train Anakin, he would even leave the Order if that was necessary to fulfil Qui-Gon's last wish.

"Qui-Gon's defiance, I sense in you," Yoda remarked. Now was the time for the second thing Yoda needed to talk about with Obi-Wan. "Need that, you do not. Belong to you, it does not. Give it back, you must. Belong to young Skywalker, it does. Inherited it from Qui-Gon, Anakin has."

The emotionless mask on Obi-Wan's face disappeared and was replaced by a frown of bewilderment.

"What do you mean, Master Yoda?" he asked, clearly puzzled.

Yoda drew a rolled sheet of flimsiplast from his robe. Slowly, he unrolled it and loudly cleared his throat. "Qui-Gon's last will and testament, this is. State who gets which of his possessions, it does."

"I was not aware that Qui-Gon had written a testament," Obi-Wan said. Not that there were all that many possessions to bequeath, anyway. Jedi didn't have possessions except for the few odd personal belongings, and Qui-Gon had been no exception, except that maybe his personal belongings were a bit odder than the average.

"Yes, he did," Yoda affirmed.

Yoda handed the sheet of paper to Obi-Wan. Hesitantly, he took it.

Qui-Gon's scrawl covered most of the page; it seemed there were quite a few things the Master had wanted to say after joining the Force. Obi-Wan, according to the testament, had inherited Qui-Gon's lightsaber, for which he was grateful since his own weapon was oscillating somewhere between the two ends of the bottomless pit that spanned the whole diameter of Naboo. Also, he got Qui-Gon's collection of pictures of all the pathetic life forms he had picked up during his life, as well as responsibility for any Chosen Ones under Qui-Gon's care at the time of his death. Thankfully, that did not include Jar Jar, because Qui-Gon had never officially declared the Gungan another potential Chosen One. Obi-Wan thanked the Force for small favours.

A recent addition to the testament stated that Obi-Wan was also to get the deed for the time-sharing hut somewhere in the Dune Sea of Tatooine, to be used in about fifteen year's time. It seemed Ben the real estate agent had managed to sell that one after all, and for 20,000 Republic credits, no less. Obi-Wan wondered where a Jedi might have gotten that much money. Then again, since Qui-Gon had violated almost every single one of the Jedi tenets at some point, it was not surprising that he had ignored the one that forbade possession, too.

He read the next paragraph, which, despite the tumultuous emotions still raging inside him, made Obi-Wan stifle a laugh.

It seemed Qui-Gon had bequeathed his second-best wig to Mace Windu, his best friend on the Council, because the honoured Master was obviously a bit short on hair. His best wig was to be burned with him, so that Qui-Gon could look gorgeous and distinguished even in death.

Obi-Wan was familiar with his Master's second-best wig. It was a bundle of tangled, roughly shoulder-length and dull brown shaggy hair that looked more like the rear end of a Wookie than an actual toupee. Alone the image of Mace wearing that wig, a deadly serious expression on his darkly glowering face almost shattered Obi-Wan's self-control.

It seemed Qui-Gon did have a sense of humour, after all.

Obi-Wan's smile wavered precariously, though, when he read that Qui-Gon had also seen fit to bequeath his second-best beard – and not to Mace, either. The Jedi Master's best beard was well-trimmed, and gave him an air of distinguished authority and wisdom and power. The second-best beard, though, looked even worse than the wig. If he weren't so sure that no cat would ever touch that bundle of coarse, scratchy bristle, Obi-Wan would have said that it looked like something the cat dragged in after having dragged it through just about every muddy puddle imaginable between Coruscant and Dagobah. And what was worse, Qui-Gon decreed in his testament that his Padawan should wear it, because he had found that such a beard somewhat discouraged overly amorous fangirls and because it gave a distinguished and masterly look to anyone wearing it. Most people would not term the appearance of anyone who wore that beard as distinguished, though. Obi-Wan imagined himself wearing the hairy thing, which was probably more alive than dead, anyway, and that image made words like 'ugly', 'catastrophic', 'nasty to the point of being **distrafolic'** and 'OMG why is that guy wearing a dead rat in his face' come to mind.

Obi-Wan immediately decided to grow his own beard, so that he wouldn't have to come any closer to Qui-Gon's hairy heritage than was absolutely necessary. He hadn't planned on cultivating facial hair at all, he actually liked his face smooth and free of stray and unnecessary hair, but unlike with Qui-Gon's beard, he would at least grow used to it if it was his own beard.

Further, the testament decreed that Master Yoda got Qui-Gon's collection of books and the bigger fish. Apparently, a bigger fish actually existed somewhere in the dusty confines of the eccentric Jedi Master's cupboard. Also, Qui-Gin couldn't keep from asserting once again that there was always a bigger fish.

Finally, in a paragraph that had been added very recently, the testament said that Anakin would receive Qui-Gon's defiance, his obstinacy, his disregard for authority and his independent streak. That finally and very effectively wiped the last traces of the fond smile that had tugged at his lips just moments before from Obi-Wan's face. If Anakin lived up to Qui-Gon's expectations in that respect, it didn't bode well for the boy's apprenticeship. Obi-Wan didn't even want to begin to think about all the trouble Anakin would get in with Qui-Gon's stubborn and nonconformist attitude added to his innate inquisitiveness and emotional neediness and volatile temper. It seemed that already Obi-Wan was in for a hard time trying to educate Anakin.

The document concluded with a request that some of Qui-Gon's favourite sayings be added to the Jedi Code, and it proposed inserting "there is no fish, there is always a bigger fish" right between "there is no chaos, there is harmony" and "there is no death, there is the Force". Thankfully, Qui-Gon had refrained from assigning this task to his Padawan, or else Obi-Wan would have felt compelled to pursue that matter, too, never mind that he considered the idea hopelessly ridiculous.

Below that, Qui-Gon had scribbled a hasty "May the Force be with you" and signed with the usual barely legible scrawl that was supposed to represent his name.

Having finished reading the document, Obi-Wan looked up to find Yoda staring at him in an unsettling scrutiny. He shifted uncomfortably, and then dared bring up the topic of Anakin again.

"Master Yoda, have you reached a decision concerning me and Anakin?" he asked tentatively, prepared for another whack.

Thankfully, the only thing that Yoda did was sigh. Then, rocking from side to side which made him look like he was shaking his head and making it abundantly clear that he didn't agree at all, the little green gnome announced reluctantly: "Agree with you, the Council does." He turned around and looked at Obi-Wan. "Your apprentice, Skywalker will be."

It seemed that unlike Chancellor Palpatine, who was not the Senate (at least not yet, no matter what he might say to the contrary), Yoda indeed was the Jedi High Council, as he could make such a binding decision and speak for the whole Council all by himself without consulting the other members first.

Despite feeling divided about the subject of Anakin, Obi-Wan respectfully inclined his head. He had gotten what he had asked for. Except for a few formalities, Anakin was his Padawan. _His _Padawan. Until a few hours ago, Obi-Wan had been the Padawan, and now he was supposed to be a Master. And not just Master to anyone, least of all to a Padawan the Force had led him to when he was ready to take one on, but Master to Anakin Skyalker, who was both the Chosen One and probably the most atypical Jedi in the last thousand years, if not ever.

_What have I gotten myself into?_ Obi-Wan wondered .

He was not sure how to deal with this sudden transition and all its repercussions, especially since he could no longer ask for Qui-Gon's advice, and it seemed that Yoda didn't intend to offer any counsel, either. The diminutive and ancient Master was, in fact, hobbling towards the door, muttering a half-hearted "May the Force be with you" between the tiny groans he always emitted when walking. Obi-Wan also expressed his wish that the Force be with Yoda, and suddenly he found himself alone in the room, the door closing after the small Master with a quiet swish.

Obi-Wan got up and shook some life back into his legs – this was the second time that day that they had gotten numb from kneeling on the floor for far too long. He looked out the window and saw the sun set in a glorious display of colours, almost as if Naboo wanted to show its beautiful sides, too. Until now, Obi-Wan had experienced the swampy side of the planet out in the marshes, the dumb side in form of the Gungans, and a hidden dark and horrible side down in the Museum of Oddities, though that could hardly be blamed on Naboo since it could have happened on every other planet in the galaxy, too. Still, Obi-Wan refused to have only bad memories of Naboo. After all, this was also the planet where he had spent his last mission with his Master, and where Qui-Gon had told him that he would make a great Jedi Knight one day. With a weary smile, he accepted the marvellous sunset as an apology.

Qui-Gon loved… had loved to watch suns set. He had always taken the time to marvel at the magnificent spectacle of nature on many a planet – which sometimes had had deleterious results. Often, it had been Obi-Wan's task to defend his Master because Qui-Gon had suddenly stopped dead in his tracks to admire the sundown, even when they had been chased by an angry mob once. Back then, Obi-Wan had been exasperated by his Master's odd behaviour, but now he spent the moment in fond memories of his Master's eccentricities until the last bit of the sun disappeared beneath the horizon.

He spent the first minutes of night in contemplation of the future as he had spent the sunset in contemplation of the past. He had a Padawan to consider now. Maybe he had not wanted to take on a Padawan already, but that hardly mattered now. He would do his very best with Anakin, even though he feared that his best would never be as good as Qui-Gon. Anakin had been ecstatic to learn that he was to become Qui-Gon's apprentice, and it must have been a bitter disappointment on top of the grief for him to learn of Qui-Gon's death. Obi-Wan was all too familiar with the feeling of wanting to be the great Jedi's student, and he, too, knew what it was like to be denied this wish. Only Qui-Gon had taken on Obi-Wan in the end, however reluctantly, breaking the vow of never training another Padawan he had made when his last apprentice had turned to the Dark Side. Now, he would never get the chance to break that vow a second time.

Still, Obi-Wan thought that he had gotten along all right with Anakin so far. He didn't know how to be a Master, but he did know what it had been like as a Padawan. He also remembered that no matter how much he had loved Qui-Gon, the Master had often acted distant and even cold towards him at times, especially in the beginning, and he remembered how much that had hurt. As much as he wanted to be just as wise and as kind and as gentle as Qui-Gon, he didn't want to put Anakin through the same cold, silent treatment he had received in the first weeks and months of his apprenticeship. There, he wanted to differ from his Master.

But Anakin also needed to be taught the way of the Jedi. He needed to learn to be in control of his emotions, and to let go of his attachment, and Obi-Wan thought that in this case, mollycoddling Anakin was not the right method of education.

The newly minted Knight decided to treat Anakin in a kind and reassuring manner. To make concessions to Anakin's unusual background – unusual for a Jedi, anyway – was also inevitable. Yet, it seemed a bad idea to pamper the boy. There would be enough people to tell Anakin that he was special. Obi-Wan didn't want to add to that or else Anakin's head might grow so big that his slender neck wouldn't be able to support it any more.

And aside from all the good intentions, Obi-Wan honestly didn't think he could summon any kindness or support right now. He feared that despite his best intentions, Anakin would probably feel mistreated and ignored. He was used to the undivided intention of his mother, and as a Jedi Obi-Wan was absolutely unqualified to become a surrogate mother to Anakin. They would be Master and Padawan, and given time, maybe they would become friends, too.

oOo

When the last traces of orange had vanished from Naboo's velvety black night sky, Obi-Wan finally turned away from the window. He had to arrange Qui-Gon's funeral, and there was still a lot to do. There was not a single log of wood to be found in the whole palace, and Qui-Gon was to be burned in the way Jedi had always been cremated since the beginning of the Order. They could hardly use propane, where would be the dignity in that?

Obi-Wan sighed wearily, this day was taking its toll on him. He sighed deeply, wishing for just a moment of reprieve. Then, he straightened again and walked off to find an axe and a few trees willing to donate a bit of wood.

oOo

Edited on 12th March, 2011


	34. Chapter 34

**Chapter 34**

Disclaimer: I hereby solemnly and outspokenly disclaim. ;-P

oOo

Naboo's single moon was already high in the sky when Obi-Wan finally finished the last preparations for Qui-Gon's funeral. He had had a hard time finding actual wood for the cremation. He hadn't expected the difficulties, though, since Theed was a green city, and there were plenty of trees. Most of these trees, though, were standing in private gardens or in public parks, and Obi-Wan didn't dare use some of their branches for Qui-Gon's funeral pyre. Not only because most of them were trimmed immaculately, but also because whenever a tree was not well protected behind high walls or spiky fences, there were big yellow signs threatening anyone trying to touch the tree with imminent, excruciating death. It seemed the Naboo government took environmental protection very serious.

Fortunately, Obi-Wan had finally managed to procure at least enough wood to keep up the pretence that Qui-Gon's funeral pyre was of the traditional wooden kind. The wood had come from the unlikeliest place, and by the unlikeliest means. Some time during the late afternoon, Queen Amidala (who was Eritraé at the moment) had suddenly started shrieking and screaming like mad, declaring a national emergency, because her makeup had become a bit flaky during the short battle she had fought. Naturally, the commotion had caused everyone to run to her rescue – until the guards and pilots found out that this was all about imperfect face paint. The Queen's loyal subjects had turned on their heels and hurried back to whatever they had been doing. Only Obi-Wan had stayed, though out of necessity: the juvenile monarch-decoy had tightly gripped his sleeve and couldn't be convinced to let go again until someone rescued her from her messy makeup.

So Obi-Wan, who didn't even have the slightest clue how to handle messed-up makeup, had convinced her to let him take her to the extensive section of the palace entirely dedicated to wellness and beauty. There, the upset girl had finally - though somewhat reluctantly - let go of Obi-Wan. All the way from the Throne Room, she had hidden her "grotesquely disfigured" face, as she had called it, in the folds of Obi-Wan's robe. That way, she imagined being able to keep her dignity – and Obi-Wan got to keep a big white stain on his robe from where the girl's face paint had rubbed off. Obi-Wan thought that her face looked not nearly as disfigured without the makeup as it did with the paint on – but then again, he was apparently a bad judge of such things, since makeup seemed to be so popular with everyone else.

But awkward as the whole episode might have been, it did have one good consequence: Obi-Wan had spotted a small pile of fully leaved branches in a corner. When he asked, he was told that the leaves were appreciated for the fresh scent they gave off, and that the essential oil that could be gained from them was sometimes used in one of the spa's steam rooms. The wood, although it had the same effect to a lesser extent, was not needed, and Obi-Wan was free to take it if he removed the leaves first. It seemed the greenery had been especially imported from a remote planet called Australia, where these **eucalyptus** trees grew, for the purpose of unclogging her Majesty's nose during the winter months when she invariably got a cold which would utterly spoil her carefully practiced royal droning voice.

And so it happened that the wood on which Qui-Gon was bedded for his funeral was that of a **eucalyptus** tree. It would certainly make for an unconventional funeral pyre, but then again, Obi-Wan couldn't think of anything about Qui-Gon that had been conventional. In fact, he was quite sure that his late Master would have enjoyed both the eccentricity of the circumstances as well as the sharp tang caused by the essential oil in the green wood. That, at least, would ensure that Qui-Gon would not leave this plane of existence unmourned – lots of involuntary tears would be spilled from eyes irritated by the smoke and the essential oil the wood exuded. As a small recompense for that, the **eucalyptus** would also cure the beginning colds and congested noses any of the attendants might suffer from.

Despite all the difficulties, Obi-Wan had managed to put together a halfway decent funeral in the circular chapel-like structure the Queen had assigned for that purpose. He had just finished the last preparations when all the dignitaries started to file in. And there were a lot of dignitaries who wanted to attend. The whole Council was there, despite the fact that Qui-Gon had been a regular pain in their haughty backsides. Naturally, Queen Amidala (the real one, for a change) was there, as was to be expected. Qui-Gon had helped free her planet and had protected her with his life, after all.

Boss Nass was there, too, which could possibly be explained by the residual influence of the mind trick Qui-Gon had used on the Gungan Boss to gain his goodwill. Qui-Gon had never been one for subtlety where it came to mind influences. What truly surprised Obi-Wan, though, was the presence of Chancellor Palpatine. As a recently elected Chancellor, Obi-Wan would have expected him to be terribly busy, and hadn't though that Palpatine would stay on Naboo for longer than just half an hour.

The Chancellor's attendance should have been a great honour for Qui-Gon, yet somehow, Obi-Wan resented his presence. The Chancellor seemed to emit an oily, tainting feeling of satisfaction, as if he actually enjoyed the funeral. Obi-Wan's opinion of politicians was already so low that he wouldn't think it below the Chancellor to feel a morbid pleasure in the suffering and death of others. But on top of that, Obi-Wan got the impression that for some unfathomable reason, the Chancellor was gloating at the Jedi in general and Master Yoda in particular, and that made him distinctly uneasy.

Obi-Wan's attention was diverted from the suspicious politician by the arrival of Anakin. The boy arrived clinging to Hanké's sturdy leg, proclaiming his undying love to him.

It was obvious he had mistaken the bodyguard dressed up as a handmaiden with a real handmaiden, probably Padmé whom he couldn't find because she had once again taken on the persona of Queen Amidala.

"**Radishes** are red; violets are the colour of Master Windu's lightsaber, um… I love you and you love your neighbour… which is me!" he finished triumphantly, proud of his self-made poetry. It was obvious that living on Tatooine, Anakin had never before seen an actual rose, and so it was understandable that the got them mixed up with radishes – plants looked all the same to him, anyway.

The infatuated boy continued serenading the wrong hand"maiden". "**Anyhoo**, when I am all grown up and you've grown more beautiful, for a Senator, I mean, then we'll go and hide away here on Naboo in the Lake Country and then we'll leave for Tatooine and I will have vengeance for my mommy's death and then we'll completely botch a rescue mission and nearly get both ourselves and Obi-Wan killed in the process and then I'll also botch the fight against a Sith Lord and then we'll marry! Won't we? I promise I will be a loving and caring husband until the moment Obi-Wan will turn you against me. Will you marry me, Padmé? You have to marry me. It is our destiny! We can't leave the Galaxy without hope once I turn to the Dark Side. We have to have children, or else I might never return to the Light Side – and Obi-Wan would probably go mad with boredom if he couldn't occupy himself with my son."

Anakin did his best to convince the woman of his desire, and if at all possible to extract a promise of future marriage from her. He was still firmly attached to Hanké's leg. The burly bodyguard approached Obi-Wan, pointed to the child attached to his leg and growled: "This boy has been following me around for the last half hour, proclaiming his undying love to me because he thinks I'm Padmé. Do something about it!"

Obi-Wan shrugged apologetically before he gently but firmly unlatched the protesting boy. He decided that the first thing he would teach his new if still unofficial Padawan was that every single person had an individual presence in the Force, and how to distinguish them. It seemed Anakin was not so perceptive as to be able to tell the difference between someone as dissimilar as Hanké and Padmé. Then again, Obi-Wan's perception of the Force kept confusing the Chancellor with a Sith Lord, so he was not entitled to judge too harshly, he thought.

Despite the many irregularities and the sharp, pungent smell of essential oils that made many an eye water, the funeral was a very solemn and hushed affair. Obi-Wan stared into the flickering flames that consumed Qui-Gon's body, their orange glow the only source of illumination for the round chamber.

Everyone else was also looking on the pyre, so that nobody saw the evil smirk on the Chancellor's face, or the way he greedily steepled his fingers and murmured "Excellent!" when his eyes fell on Anakin.

Anakin, who was standing on a stool so that he could see over the low wall behind Obi-Wan, sniffled. There burned his only hope of ever becoming a Jedi. And if Anakin couldn't have been a Jedi, maybe Qui-Gon would have married his mother. Anakin shot Obi-Wan a sceptical glance. He already knew that Obi-Wan would never act against something the Council decided and take Anakin as a Padawan, Qui-Gon had told him that his apprentice was very much a stickler to the rules.

So Anakin would not become a Jedi. Unfortunately, he was not so sure that Obi-Wan would be an adequate stand-in for Qui-Gon when it came to marrying his mother. Although Anakin was sure that no person in the whole galaxy could _not_ love his gentle, caring mother, he was not so sure whether his mother could deal with the reservedly polite and enigmatic personality of Obi-Wan. When he had asked her once, Shmi had told him that she rather liked the tall, long-haired and eccentric kind of man, and found the shorter, more reserved and silent ones boring.

And while Anakin's plans of becoming a Jedi literally went up in smoke, so did his plans of at least finding a satisfactory husband for his mother.

Anakin sniffled again, louder this time. Loud enough, in fact, to draw the attention of Obi-Wan, who turned around to find out how Anakin was coping.

Anakin took the chance to finally have Obi-Wan's full attention and asked in a whisper that somehow managed to be brazen and subdued and outraged at the same time: "What will happen to me now? You can't simply drag me through half the Known Galaxy and then just drop me like a bantha drops its droppings. Who is my legal guardian, anyway? A child my age is supposed to have one, isn't that so? I'm sure the authorities would not agree with the way you just yanked me away from the only home I've ever known just to leave me hanging somewhere without someone to take care of me. I'm a child, you know? I'm sure that in your precious Republic, it's illegal to leave a child to cope on his own, especially if it's such an adorable and promising child as me." The condemning stare Anakin focused on Obi-Wan had the result Anakin had aimed for – the Jedi visibly cringed at the barrage of accusations.

In all the chaos of the preparations for the funeral, Obi-Wan hadn't gotten the chance to tell Anakin of the Council's permission. It was not surprising that the boy would accuse him of negligence of his duties towards his Padawan, even though Anakin was still ignorant of that status. He hadn't even been a Master for a few hours, and already he was failing in his first and foremost duty towards his young charge. Well, he hadn't even seen the boy for most of the time, and when he had Anakin had been so busy drooling over Padmé as she got her hair done for the funeral that it had seemed wiser to talk about that some other time.

Anakin's glare was still fixed on him, awaiting a satisfactory answer to his questions. Obi-Wan took a deep breath, before solemnly telling Anakin: "The Council have granted me permission to train you. You will be a Jedi, I promise."

Anakin's face did some very curious contortions as he worked out what that meant for him. The Council in its unending wisdom had actually admitted him to the Jedi Order? He could still remember the protests the high-and-mighty Councillors had voiced against him when Qui-Gon had presented him to them. How very generous of them to take in the Chosen One, the mightiest Force user in the last thousand years or more, the one who would bring balance to the Force, the best pilot in the whole Galaxy, the most handsome young man to be found on Tatooine if not in the whole Outer Rim, me, Anakin Skywalker, Anakin thought. To think that they have stooped so low as to grant me a place amongst them!

But what seemed even more surprising to Anakin was that obviously, he had to thank Obi-Wan for his sudden change in fortune. Anakin had looked forward to become a Jedi under Qui-Gon's guidance. There had been an instant liking and understanding between the Jedi Master and the little boy, and Anakin missed Qui-Gon even though he had not known him for more than a few days. He had also gotten along quite well with Obi-Wan, but the young Jedi was mostly an enigma to him.

Obi-Wan always seemed so serious and grave and so terribly _formal_ and _polite_ all the time, and Anakin never knew what to make of him. In his quiet and reserved way, Obi-Wan seemed infinitely more intimidating that Qui-Gon ever had, despite the Master's fierce determination and strange manner and imposing physique. Anakin wondered if Obi-Wan ever laughed at all. Sometimes, he had caught remarks from Obi-Wan that might have hinted at a sense of humour, but Anakin couldn't be quite sure since he had never gotten the joke, if there had been one.

Still, Obi-Wan offered Anakin a chance to be a Jedi when he had already given up hope to ever become one. So Obi-Wan as a Master couldn't be worse than no Master at all. He was a Jedi, after all, and Jedi were not allowed to be mean, were they? Anakin was almost positive that being mean towards your own apprentice was "not the Jedi way", as Yoda was apparently fond of saying. What Anakin hadn't quite figured out, though, was how Obi-Wan could be his Master if he was still a Padawan himself. He could clearly see the long, thin braid behind Obi-Wan's right ear, despite the hood Obi-Wan had drawn over his head.

Also, Anakin had to wonder at the almost unnatural lack of emotion Obi-Wan displayed at his own Master's funeral. He had always gotten the impression that Obi-Wan had liked his Master and vice versa, but while Anakin sniffled, his chin wobbled and his eyes burned as much from crying as they did from the acrid smoke, Obi-Wan looked cheerless but not as miserable as Anakin would have thought. Maybe there were such things as mean Jedi, after all?

But Anakin could not imagine Qui-Gon as anything but kind and gentle. He didn't seem like the kind of man to refuse to take on a Padawan, or to abandon his Padawan on a planet in the middle of a war, or to leave his Padawan without saying goodbye. And although Anakin didn't have the deep, intuitive connection to Obi-Wan that he had had to Qui-Gon, he doubted that Obi-Wan was mean, especially if being mean was forbidden by the Council. So maybe this lack of emotion had something to do with the Jedi way, then? Perhaps the Jedi didn't believe in funerals…

Anakin hoped that maybe someday he could even unravel a bit of the mystery his new Master posed to him.

Having figured out that the idea of Obi-Wan becoming his new Master was tolerable, Anakin returned to wallowing in the sadness and grief of Qui-Gon's death. That's what funerals were there for, after all, whether the Jedi believed in it or not!

oOo

Obi-Wan carefully studied Anakin's face for the boy's feelings at the news. Another tiny stab of pain was added to the million pains already piercing his heart when Anakin's face fell. Quickly, he turned away to look back into the flames, and thus missed the multitude of other emotions that played across it in quick succession as Anakin considered his future.

He was not the only one who had lost a Master. Anakin had surely hoped to become Qui-Gon's apprentice, and Obi-Wan could fully understand that the boy must be disappointed with the poor substitute he had gotten instead. Still, he had hoped for a bit more enthusiasm. He had gotten along quite well with Anakin thus far, after all, and although he still had to force down the unease he felt at the thought of Anakin as his Padawan, he genuinely liked Anakin as a person. Somehow, many of the boy's characteristics reminded him of Qui-Gon, and Anakin was a friendly and nice child – at least as long as everything turned out the way he wanted, but Obi-Wan didn't know about that yet.

oOo

In a corner away from most of the other attendants, the Masters Yoda and Windu discussed the latest events. Only the newly elected Chancellor Palpatine was within earshot of their whispered words, but they didn't consider him a threat. What they were talking about was Jedi stuff, and being the politician of a rather backwater planet and relatively newly appointed at that, surely the Chancellor wouldn't understand a word they said, anyway.

"Do you really think it was a wise decision to let Obi-Wan train the Skywalker boy?" Mace voiced his doubts. "He turned out well enough despite Qui-Gon's training, but don't you think we should give him a break? I mean, we made him take care of what I like to call the Jinn problem for many years longer than was justified. We never told him that he'd been knighted years ago just so that the Council wouldn't have to deal with Qui-Gon's quirks. And now, you push him to take care of the next problem Jedi right after the first one is gone?"

"The only choice, it is," Yoda protested, his croaky voice barely audible to Palpatine, who was listening intently to the Jedi's conversation. This seemed to be very interesting! Very interesting indeed.

Yoda continued convincing the soft heart of Master Windu. "Ask, he did, to train Anakin. The only one, Obi-Wan is, who has had many years of experience with the most difficult Master in the Temple. The only one experienced enough in handling 'problem Jedi', as you called them, he is." Yoda heaved a deep sigh.

When Mace was about to open his mouth and protest, Yoda silenced him with a gesture and stared at him from huge, half-lidded eyes. "Train the boy, who else would? Difficult he is, wilful, not as docile and well-trained as the younglings from the crèche, he is. Not listen to authority, he will, but be disrespectful and use you as bait and make you sick with his reckless driving, he will. Very demanding, he is, and very defiant. Train him, would you?"

Mace quickly shook his head; Yoda had made his point. As much as Mace wanted for Obi-Wan to be free of either his Master- or his Padawan-sitting duties, he didn't wish to take them upon himself. He was quite sure that he would not perform these duties nearly as well as Obi-Wan did. He lacked both the patience and the determination to raise someone as… unique as Anakin.

Mace let the issue drop. There was no use beating a dead bantha, he thought, except maybe if you enjoyed doing that sort of thing, but that was beside the point.

"There's no doubt the mysterious warrior was a Sith," Mace asserted darkly. The Sith were his one secret fear, he dreaded them with all his heart. He couldn't shake the feeling that Anakin would someday be his downfall, but he had dismissed this premonition since he had always known that this prerogative already belonged to the Sith. Whenever he thought of them, he got the feeling that someone was pushing him out a window.

That was also how he had gotten his surname: he hadn't had one when he had been given to the Jedi as a tiny infant, and the Jedi had named him after his first word, which had been "Windu", thinking that that was his family name. In fact, it soon turned out that little Mace as equally fascinated and horrified by windows, and as a child he had to battle a severe phobia of every glass-filled hole in the wall. As he had matured, he had learned to overcome these fears, but a distinct uneasiness remained whenever Mace stood near a window.

"Always two, there are," Yoda stated, "no more, no less. A Master, and an apprentice. Count to three, they probably cannot. Know that three are more than two, they probably also do not. Ignorant, they are, that the Jedi are more than just two. No chance, they have against us."

Mace was not so sure of that. "What if the Sith somehow got Chancellor of the Republic and instigated a galaxy-wide war where he secretly controlled both parties and used this war to both diminish the Jedi Order and to bring the Jedi in a situation where they could be easily overwhelmed by their own troops, thus destroying the whole Order and the Republic right along? What if he used clones as soldiers that would follow his every order without question? What if he turned the Chosen One to the Dark Side by some tale about immortality and saving people from death? What if he threw me out a window?"

Yoda thought about this for a moment. "Yes," he finally admitted, "the only way, that would be, for the Sith to beat the Jedi. And only if the Sith would get the help of powerful and charismatic leaders like Master Dooku, possible it would be. But highly unlikely, it is, that a Sith Master would do exactly that."

"So which was destroyed?" Mace wondered. "The Master, or the apprentice? And how can there be always two when one of them is dead now? That must mean that there is only one right now. Is that even allowed?"

The answer that question elicited from Yoda was both long and excessively boring, not to mention completely backwards.

oOo

Palpatine listened intently to everything the two Jedi Masters said. It was true that there always had to be two Sith, no more, but also no less. Right now, to his knowledge, there was only one Sith – himself. He had to change that, and quickly.

His eyes wandered around the room, looking for a suitable new apprentice. The obvious choice would be the young Jedi who had killed his former apprentice, thus already passing the first necessity to become a Sith apprentice. He was also already well trained and strong in the Force. Palpatine decided to try his luck with this one, but he didn't expect success. The young man was clinging to the Light Side just as persistently as the Light Side clung to him – not an easy target, that one. It would need much effort to turn him to the Dark Side, and right now Sidious didn't have the time for elaborate ploys. He needed a new apprentice _right now_.

His eyes settled on the boy next to Kenobi. Aaah, yes, Anakin Skywalker. He was such a deliciously volatile mixture of emotion and passion and ignorance (though more well-meaning people might have called that innocence) and chaos and compassion and love and power and jealousy and fury and anger and Light and Darkness that Sidious almost shuddered with pleasure at the idea of turning him to the Dark Side. He would definitely keep an eye on this one, but at the moment the boy was still too young and untrained to be of any use. Sidious decided to let the Jedi do all the work of instilling discipline and respect into him and of teaching him the necessary skills with the Force and a lightsaber. Then, when his Jedi training was complete, then would Sidious make his move – and make Anakin Skywalker his.

The rest of the Force sensitives present were not to his taste. Either they were too old (like Master Yoda) or too green (also like Master Yoda) or too small (again, the perfect example would be Master Yoda) or too backwards (you may make an educated guess whom Palpatine was thinking about at that point). Ah well, he would just have to go for Master Dooku, whom Yoda had just so kindly pointed out to him, and Sidious could use a powerful and charismatic leader if he wanted to succeed.

Sidious cackled quietly but evilly. He would pay his tribute to irony, which had killed his apprentice after all, by toppling the Jedi and the Republic in exactly the way Mace and Yoda had just discussed. With irony on his side, nothing could go wrong, and irony was a powerful ally.

He laughed a bit about the stupidity of the Jedi. Here he was, brazenly shoving his Darkness and evil right up their lofty noses, and they didn't even notice him. He had all the tools he needed to eradicate that anachronistic Order of fools: he was Chancellor, he was still good-looking, and thanks to some careful **embezzlement** of administrative funds and the kind gifts of people who wanted his favour, he also had a lot of money. The only thing he didn't have was an apprentice.

On a whim, Sidious decided to talk to young Kenobi, anyway. Even if that didn't get immediate results, maybe he could at least leave a brochure about the advantages of the Dark Side, and who knew how things would turn out in the end.

oOo

About half an hour later, people started to leave. Burning a human body takes a lot of time, and by then it was quite late and people became bored of staring into the flames and acting sad. Anakin had started fidgeting almost twenty minutes ago, and was practically bouncing off the walls by the time he was finally allowed to leave. Obi-Wan was just asking Padmé to take care of him again, when suddenly the Si– erm, the Chancellor appeared out of nowhere and offered to take care of the boy.

"He fought so bravely today for the freedom of my home planet. This little boy is a hero! The least I can do is spend some time with him," Palpatine declared grandly.

Padmé was all for it, since she said she had to check her clothes store and see how many damage the Neimoidians had caused there.

Obi-Wan felt really bad for leaving his duty of getting his Padawan to bed to someone else, but Yoda had informed him that he had to spend the night meditating in preparation for his knighting, as was a long-standing tradition. And although Obi-Wan didn't trust the almost grandfatherly pride with which the Chancellor grasped Anakin's shoulder and he thought he also detected a hint of possessiveness and malice in the politician's magnanimous smile, he could hardly reject the offer of the High Chancellor of the Republic, now could he?

Palpatine's smile widened at the polite bow Kenobi offered, and led Anakin away, one hand on the boy's shoulder, talking as they walked away.

"Now, Anakin, we will find you something to eat and a comfortable bed and a place at my side as my future apprentice. And if you're a good boy, maybe I will tell you a bedtime story about a Sith Lord who could keep people he loved from dying before you go to sleep…"

Obi-Wan's head snapped back around to watch Anakin leave with the politician. He was not quite sure of it, but he thought he had just heard the Chancellor talk about Sith Lords. By then, though, the two receding figures, one small and with shoulders slumped in exhaustion, one towering over the other and almost pushing the smaller one along, were out of earshot.

It was almost midnight by the time the last people were leaving. Obi-Wan stayed behind to hold his vigil in the chapel, it was as good a place as any and a lot quieter than most. Located at the edge of one of the huge gardens of Theed Palace, the almost-Knight was sure nobody would disturb him there.

It didn't take long for him to find out just how wrong he was.

oOo

This time, Obi-Wan sat cross-legged on the ground - his legs were still a bit stiff from kneeling on the floor for so long not once but twice in one day. As soon as he had sat down, though, he immediately scrambled back up again, because Master Yoda had turned around to talk to him some more, as it seemed. After bowing low to the venerable, ancient Master, he kneeled down again, barely suppression a grown and hoping that Yoda wouldn't take too long. This day was literally bringing him to his knees.

For a short time, only the quiet clicking of Yoda's clawed feet and the hushed tapping of his walking stick on the stone floor could be heard.

"Hmmmmm," Yoda said after quietly contemplating the kneeling Jedi in front of him. "A very important night, this is. A Knight, you will become, when the sun rises. Know what is expected of you, you do?" he asked.

"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan obediently answered. The last night of Padawanship was to be spent contemplating the Force in deep meditation.

"Good, good," Yoda rasped. "Already halfway over, this night is. Find your focus, you must, and deal with your Master's death. A difficult night, it will be, but the Force will be with you. Listen to what it has to say, you must, and counsel you, it will. To bed, I will go now. Tomorrow, after woken up, I have, return here, I will, for your knighting ceremony."

He turned around and walked away, but after a few paces he turned around again and added, with an almost impish smile on his face: "Old, I am. Need much sleep, old people do not. Rise with the sun, I do. A short night this will be."

They both expressed the wish that the Force be with each other, and then Yoda finally hobbled off to find his bed.

Obi-Wan plopped down on the ground rather ungracefully once Yoda was gone. He shook his legs to get some feeling back into them. Then he settled down, legs crossed, back straight, eyes closed, to clear his thoughts and find the calmness and serenity the Force offered. It would truly be a long and hard battle and he had a lot to think about before he could let it all go, but he still had at least half a night to spend adjusting to the new and confusing situation he suddenly found himself in.

After Qui-Gon's death, he had metaphorically gagged and bound his emotions and locked them away in a dark prison deep down inside his mind. There, they had been rattling on the bars of their cage the whole day, but they hadn't managed to escape the tight bonds of control Obi-Wan had placed on them. He got no further than cautiously approaching the prison where his incarcerated emotions raged before his meditation was disturbed again.

As he opened his eyes, he saw Padmé standing before him, her hand stretched out as if to shake him awake. Once again, he stood up and gave her a proper bow. Padmé's hand immediately retracted.

"What brings you here, Mylady?" he asked softly. Padmé looked distressed, her eyes mirroring loss and grief - much like his own probably did, Obi-Wan guessed.

Padmé searched his face for something, and the look of disappointment that spread over her face told Obi-Wan that whatever it had been, she hadn't found it.

"Your Majesty?" he quietly inquired.

"This is not what I expected," Padmé admitted. "Not what I expected at all."

"What did you expect?" Obi-Wan asked, puzzled.

"I thought that I would find a weeping Padawan grieving the death of his Master in the gardens, badly in need of comfort. I believed I could maybe comfort you and be the friend you needed – and maybe become something more, in time. Or right away. I wouldn't have minded right away. And now you are here, not at all the vulnerable and sad bundle of emotions I expected, and I don't have the courage to hug you if you are not sobbing and crying." Padmé's chin was wobbling precariously, and she suddenly became all dewy-eyed.

For a moment, Obi-Wan was at a loss for words. He just stared at the young girl who stood before him, looking up at him expectantly.

"What… wherever did you get that idea?" he finally managed to ask. The lack of his usual courtesy spoke volumes about how taken aback he was. "I'm actually supposed to be meditating in preparation for my knighting."

"Well, you know… I thought if I came down here, wearing only my dressing gown over my nightgown and the silk slippers, and finding you by chance… I don't know… I guess I got carried away a bit by my imagination. I really have no idea why I thought you might…"

Padmé's voice trailed off and she shuddered, from the cold of night as much as from embarrassment and upset.

Obi-Wan shrugged out of his robe and silently offered it to Padmé. The night air was cooler than she had anticipated. Both her nightdress and her dressing gown were far too thin to hide the fact that she was cold, but Obi-Wan's eyes had never left her face. So how did he know? Not really caring to find out the reason, Padmé gratefully took the voluminous Jedi robe and wrapped herself into the warm folds. Although the clothes she had chosen carefully in order to impress Obi-Wan were now hidden beneath the heavy fabric, she would much rather be warm than pretty, especially since all of her other plans had also failed so thoroughly.

Padmé suddenly turned away from the Jedi and stifled a sob, a tear trailing down her face. She had been to assess the damage the Neimoidians had done to her entire wardrobe – and it had been catastrophic. Many of her favourite dresses were utterly destroyed, soiled or torn, and these slimy Trade Federation guys had even defiled her favourite 15 **denier** stockings. As she discovered the extent of the damage the Neimoidians had done to her favourite clothes, she had first thrown a royal tantrum, and then she had, for one moment, considered whether becoming **catatonic** would be an adequate reaction, before she remembered the scene described in so many of the Obidala stories she had perused during the last few days. So she had donned the best nightdress and dressing gown that was still intact and had set out to conquer the heart of a grieving Jedi – only to suddenly find said Jedi comfortingly if terribly awkwardly patting her shoulder because she had descended into a crying fit.

"There, there," Obi-Wan said in as comforting and soothing a tone as he could manage, and because he couldn't think of anything else to say and decided that adding Padmé's royal title would probably sound stupid, he once again repeated: "There, there."

He really was completely out of his depth here, and he seriously doubted that this night could possibly become any more awkward.

The poor attempts at comforting her encouraged Padmé to turn around, tightly hug Obi-Wan, and cry into his chest. Although the Jedi tensed and obviously felt highly uncomfortable in her tight embrace, she didn't let go. If she was to be denied being able to comfort him, Obi-Wan at least had to comfort her.

Padmé told Obi-Wan in great detail about the atrocities the Neimoidians had committed to her clothes, her narrative interspersed with sobs and sniffles. Slowly, with some inexperienced and tentative help from Obi-Wan, she got her raging feelings back under control. As she looked at her chrono, she started.

"Why, it's so late already? I should be in bed! I need my beauty slumber!" As quickly and as unexpectedly as she had grabbed him before, she now let go of the confused Jedi, flung his robe back at him and ran off, shouting a "Good night, and thanks!" in his general direction.

Obi-Wan just stared after her, a bit dumbfounded, until the whirlwind that had just moments ago been a shaking, weeping girl firmly holding on to him was gone. He still wasn't quite sure what had happened right there. Well, that was just another thing to be meditated about. He put his robe back on, and once again sat down to do just that.

He managed to take three deep breaths before he suddenly found himself in the highly unexpected and not exactly welcome company of Chancellor Palpatine. Obi-Wan barely suppressed a sigh of annoyance and only just managed to refrain from rolling his eyes. Just how many unanticipated visitors could possibly come by in one single night?

Obi-Wan respectfully bowed to the Chancellor, who had hidden both his elaborate robe and his face in a wide black robe and hood.

"Good evening, young Knight," Palpatine greeted. Obi-Wan didn't correct him.

"What brings you here at such a late hour, your Excellency?" Obi-Wan inquired, more patiently than exasperatedly, he hoped.

"I wanted a word with the hero who saved my home planet and slew my former apprentice – erm, the terrible Sith, I mean. You have truly earned this promotion to the rank of Master."

"Oh, I'm not to become a Master for a long time, your Excellency. I am to be knighted tomorrow, not made a Master." This visit had so far done nothing to lessen Obi-Wan's confusion.

"This is outrageous! It's unfair!" Palpatine exclaimed. "How can you be on the Council and not be a Master? It's never been done in the history of the Jedi! It's insulting!"

Obi-Wan's eyebrown shot up in astonishment, and his eyes widened almost comically. "But, Chancellor, I was not appointed to the Council, either. In fact, what is unheard off is that someone as young and as inexperienced as me should be given a seat on the Council. Besides, none of the seats are vacant."

Palpatine was… displeased, to say the least. This proved to be much harder than he had expected. It seemed that despite the last day, which should leave Kenobi in turmoil and vulnerable to the lures of the Dark Side, the young Jedi had managed to keep a cool head. That was very disadvantageous for Sidious' plans. Very disappointing. But the Sith Master had one last ace up his sleeve.

In a low whisper, he set out his most powerful bait. "I want to tell you the story of a wise Force user who could use midichlorians to create life and who cold thus keep the people he loved from dying."

"I fear that is too late already," Obi-Wan answered coldly, though not without a sad glance at the embers of the funeral pyre. He had no idea what the Chancellor was getting at, but he didn't like this at all. If it weren't so weird, he would say that Palpatine was trying to make him join the Dark Side.

"Oh well, my boy," Papatine said condescendingly. "I see you cannot be helped. If you change your mind, just let me know," he said, handing Obi-Wan two leaflets and walking away, leaving in his wake a baffled Jedi who nevertheless bowed politely to his retreating back.

Obi-Wan looked down on the leaflets the Chancellor had given him. The first one read "Vote for Palpatine!" Obi-Wan set it on fire with the heat of the remaining embers without a second thought.

The other one was completely black with bright red letters printed boldly across its front.

In the background was the robed and hooded silhouette of a Sith Lord who was pointing his finger out of the two-dimensional confines of the flyer.

The text read: "I want YOU to Join the Dark Side!"

Obi-Wan stared at disbelievingly at the letters for a whole three minutes. He blinked a few times, but still the words stayed the same. He still held a leaflet advertising the Dark Side in his hands.

On the inside, Obi-Wan found information about the advantages the Dark Side had to offer, among them 'unlimited power' and 'the best health insurance in this galaxy – covering everything from loss of hair to loss of limbs'. It also offered extensive further vocational training for Force users and Ex-Jedi in the fields of 'Usage of the Dark Side – Emphasis on Force Lightning' or 'Following Darth Bane's Footsteps – The Essential Traits and Skills Necessary to Become a Great Sith Lord' or even 'A Sith's Greatest Nemesis: Jedi and How to Best Dispose of Them' and 'The Way to Political Influence as Practised by Lord Sidious'.

The requirements for being accepted as a Sith trainee were listed as removal of the Sith Master's preceding apprentice, at least rudimentary training in the use of the Force – even if the previous education had only included the dogmatic, narrow view of the Jedi – and a keen interest in the gaining, keeping and increasing of one's power.

After Obi-Wan had stared at the offending piece of paper for almost five minutes, it finally joined the ashes of the "Vote for Palpatine"–flyer in turning into a lot of smoke and a small pile of charred paper that was soon carried off by the wind.

Nobody would have believed it, anyway.

As Obi-Wan watched the last pages of the leaflet blacken and shrivel up in the flames, he could already hear the approach of his next visitor. He could hear the padding of small, bare feet and the now familiar sniffles of Anakin. After what had just happened, Obi-Wan somehow doubted that the Chancellor had been the right one to trust with his new and impressionable Padawan.

Sure enough, as soon as Anakin saw Obi-Wan, he ran over and buried his face in the Jedi's robe, adding to the tears that had already soaked it that day. Between the sobs and the hiccoughs, Obi-Wan managed to understand that apparently, Chancellor Palpatine had told young Anakin a story about a very powerful being who could use the Force to keep people from dying, and now Anakin was had had a nightmare about a Sith Lord creating an army of zombies. Obviously, the events of the day had been too much for the young mind to handle, and Anakin had twisted the reality of Qui-Gon's death at the hands of a Sith into a formidable if completely unrealistic nightmare. Whatever the Chancellor had told the boy was certainly not innocent of adding to Anakin's fears.

The fact that Anakin trusted Obi-Wan enough to take care of an entire legion of zombies gave him some hope that the relationship between Master and Padawan might just work out after all. Obi-Wan scooped up the terrified boy and soothed him as best he could while carrying him back to his room. When he had finally convinced Anakin that there were neither zombies at loose in the palace nor did they hide under his bed, the boy calmed down enough so that they could enter the dark room without Anakin descending into hysterics. By the time Obi-Wan put him in his bed and spread the blanket over his new Padawan, the boy was already fast asleep.

For a short moment, Obi-Wan just watched Anakin sleep, and the frown that seemed to have become a permanent fixture that night left his face for a moment. He marvelled at the idea that this was _his _Padawan, and for a short instant felt both the joy, the worries and the responsibility that being a Master brought. Then he remembered his task of meditating, which he had not even started yet, although it was well past four in the morning. He silently walked back to the round chapel in the gardens so as not to wake anyone who would, with his luck, start crying on his shoulder, too. He really didn't need any more of that. It was enough for any night, and definitely too much for the end of a day as draining and demanding as that day had been.

oOo

He didn't find the chapel as empty as he had left it, though. In a dark recess sat a slumped form wrapped in robes similar to Obi-Wan's own. Even over the lingering smell of the pyre, the sharp and sour smell of alcohol was obvious. The moon gleamed off the shiny roundness of Master Windu's bald head as the noticeably inebriated Master staggered to his feet and lurched towards Obi-Wan. He raised a bottle in a toast, took a generous swig, and clasped the younger Jedi's shoulder – mostly for support, though.

"Y'know, Obi-Waaaaah," he slurred, "thisis the sec- the second time we're celelele… celele… celibating your knighting. And it's also the second time you're not there. How come you never… never… what was I about to say?" The Master's garbled speech stopped for a moment, and a look of strained deliberation entered Mace's face. "Ah, right! How come you never attend your own parties?" he finally managed to ask his question, which was accompanied by a breath that smelled like a whole cabinet of antiseptics. Whatever the Council was celebrating – and Obi-Wan had reasonable doubts that it was his knighting, much less his second knighting, as Mace had said – it was clear as liquor that Mace had overindulged in drinks containing no small amount of ethanol.

Obi-Wan retreated a bit from Mace's flushed face, which had come uncomfortably close, before he answered.

"I'm sorry, Master Windu, I don't know what you mean," Obi-Wan all but snapped. This stream of unwelcome visitors was becoming extremely frustrating, especially since Obi-Wan usually ended up comforting them when he hadn't even dealt with the hurt of his Master's death still buried deep inside his own heart. He only wanted to be left alone, and absolutely did not feel like dealing with intoxicated Councillors that were babbling about knighting parties, and not even making all that much sense when doing so.

Mace didn't notice the discourtesy in Obi-Wan's voice, though, nor the annoyed glance that clearly asked him to leave – a fact for which Obi-Wan would be eternally grateful once the night was over. Right now, though, he would have liked to kick a certain bald-headed Council member for not leaving him alone.

"Aaah, ne'er mind, then," Mace grinned good-naturedly. "The party wouldn't have been as funny with you there to make sure everyone behaved according to the Code, anyway," he added in a mumble.

Then, suddenly, the bright and rather dumb grin Mace had been wearing all the time crumbled, tears entered his eyes and his lower lip started to tremble.

"Qui-Gon was such a nice man," he suddenly said very solemnly, although the effect was slightly spoiled by his unsteady gaze and the way his head was swaying back and forth, much like the head of Master Poof on its incredibly long neck. He held on to Obi-Wan's shoulder for balance. "Such a nice man, with such a nice name. Qui-Gon Jinn. Here. Let's drink some gin to Master Jinn," he declared grandly, emptying the bottle in one long pull.

The next moment, he lurched forward and caught Obi-Wan in a bear hug that crushed the air out of him.

"He was such a good friend. I liked him. I'm s-so s-sorry for your loss," he slurred, while adding to the collection of tears that already stained Obi-Wan's robe. "I know we had our differences, but he was a good- a really good friend. Always bringing along pathetic life forms. Did he still have his long-term project, by the way? Some pathetic little Padawan called Uuuubi… Obi… something. What a sad-looking child he was, always trailing behind Qui-Gon. I suppose he died a long time ago."

_If only I hadn't thought that this night couldn't get any more embarrassing and awkward,_ Obi-Wan thought. This was definitely worse than anything so far. At least, the crying Queen and the sniffling boy had been sober, unlike the Councillor tightly holding on to him and sobbing inconsolably on his shoulder. It seemed that Mace, too, had been deeply touched by Qui-Gon's passing. For once, the soft core beneath the Master's stern exterior showed. Maybe the alcohol had also been of assistance with that.

And Mace had clearly had way too much of his chosen intoxicant. Obi-Wan thought for a moment whether it was permissible to Force a member of the Council to sleep, and then decided that Mace wouldn't be able to remember any of this tomorrow, anyway. Which was all the better, because otherwise the next encounter with him would be worse than awkward.

Obi-Wan carefully placed a sleep suggestion in the rambling Master's fuzzy mind – but that seemed to have no effect at all. It only served to cause yet another mood swing, and moments later Mace was once again jovially slapping Obi-Wan's shoulder – and missing by about half a meter – and congratulating him on his excellent performance during the trials.

Master Windu stayed until almost six in the morning. He sat down on the ground opposite Obi-Wan, and carried the conversation on for both of them. He talked about the deceased Master in a sad voice choked with emotion, then his mood would suddenly and violently swing from grief and sadness about his friend's death to delight and something that could almost be termed pride when he talked about Obi-Wan's trials and what a fine Knight he had been these past years (completely puzzling said Knight with his acclamation), which would turn into fiery anger as he raged against the Sith a second later.

All the while, Mace completely ignored any requests, suggestions, orders and even threats with which Obi-Wan tried to get him to just go and sleep it off, or at least bother someone else with all this. Only when a bright line on the horizon announced the coming of the next morning did the by then hung-over and grumpy Master finally leave. The bald Master woke the next morning with a bad, sour taste in his mouth, a whole heard of trampling banthas in his head and no recollection of how he acquired them, and the bad feeling that he would have to participate in more partying soon.

Obi-Wan watched Mace stagger away, both glad that the inebriated Master had finally left and worried for the safety of said Master, since Mace seemed to have even forgotten just how to put one foot in front of the other. When Master Windu made it to the palace entrance without falling over, though, Obi-Wan decided that as a Jedi Master, Mace was probably able to look after himself.

He looked around to check if anybody else was on his way to bother him and cry on his shoulder before he sat down again when he couldn't see anyone. It was nearly morning, and the last twenty-four hours had left Obi-Wan drained and numb. He thought that if he closed his eyes now, he would probably fall asleep right there on the floor. And although he had most definitely not had the chance to examine his emotions about Qui-Gon's death and his new Padawan and the Chancellor's weirdness and Padmé's strange fit and Master Windu's seemingly nonsensical ramblings, exhaustion had put a more effective lock on them than he ever could.

Just as his eyelids started to droop despite his best efforts to stay awake, the familiar tapping of a certain infamous walking stick accompanied by the click of blunt claws on the marble-tiled floor could be heard. Obi-Wan was jerked out of his almost-sleep before the diminutive Master arrived, for which the young Jedi was grateful because otherwise Yoda would almost certainly add to the collection of bruises he already carried on his shins from their earlier discussion.

"Good morning, Master Yoda," Obi-Wan greeted the ancient Master.

"Good morning, young Obi-Wan. A nice morning, it is. Wake with the sun, I did. Tell you that old people rise early, I did, didn't I? Your night of meditation, what did it tell you?"

Obi-Wan hesitated for a moment. "It was most… puzzling," he weighed the word and found that it adequately described all that had happened without telling Yoda anything at all, really.

And it was not such a rare occurrence that the Force would bestow confusing and incomprehensible visions, after all. It all came down to the point of view: the night definitely had been puzzling, and if Yoda thought this was due to whatever Obi-Wan had seen during his meditation, well, it was not really his fault. Yoda was the one always preaching that one must not assume too much.

Yoda seemed satisfied with the answer. "Yes, hmmm. Always in motion, the future is. Never easy to understand, it is, what the Force tells us. Aware of the future, one must be, yet at the same time, live in the here and now, you must."

Obi-Wan just nodded, his brain too tired to wrap around the enigmatic contradictions Yoda regularly spouted. He just wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible, and then find a nice bed or even a dark corner where he could sleep for a while.

"Invited us to join a parade to celebrate Naboo's liberation, the Queen has. Very generous, this is. Attend, we will," Yoda informed Obi-Wan. "Bring along your new Padawan, too. Perform all the necessary steps to make young Skywalker your Padawan, you must, so that stand by your side, he can at the parade."

"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan answered automatically.

In Obi-Wan's sleep-deprived and rather exhausted mind, the following moments blurred to become one event that seemed both to be over incredibly fast and yet at the same time to take forever. Yoda recited all the correct words, except that he spoke them backwards, then he hacked off Obi-Wan's braid, spoke a few words of benediction and encouragement, pressed the severed braid in his hand and hobbled off.

Obi-Wan stared at the three strands of auburn hair adorned with many beads. Some of them were still shiny and colourful, others had faded and dulled with age but were none the less cherished for that. He still remembered where he got every single one of them, and he remembered who had first woven them into his Padawan braid. Tightly clutching this last remainder of his apprenticeship, Obi-Wan sat there in the morning sun for a long time, finally releasing the tears he hadn't been able to spill earlier, remembering his Master and grieving for Qui-Gon's death.

oOo

Edited on 13th March, 2011


	35. Chapter 35

**Chapter 35**

Disclaimer: If you haven't noticed that this doesn't belong to me after 34 long chapters, then this last disclaimer probably won't do much good, either.

oOo

The sun had risen a handbreadth above the horizon by the time Obi-Wan could finally muster enough determination to return to his room. He shakily wiped the telling tear tracks from his face and then stood rather unsteadily. The room around him seemed to tilt at an unnatural angle and the ground felt much wobblier than solid stone had any right to be. The new Knight blinked a few times, and reluctantly the world righted itself.

Obi-Wan decided that he should go and find a bed as long as he was still conscious enough to do so. Exhaustion had finally overtaken him and wrapped him in a thick blanket of numbness that seemed to muffle every sound and blurred his vision. Thankfully, though, it also silenced the screams of his torn heart. He felt light-headed, as if he were walking through a dream rather than this cruel reality. So he trudged through the palace. It was still too early for everyone but the most morning-loving persons to be up and awake, and so the hallways Obi-Wan traversed were still mostly deserted.

They were not completely deserted, though.

oOo

Superstitia clutched her chest just above her madly hammering heart. Her breath still came in short, shallow bursts, and she was trembling like a leaf in autumn. As soon as she dared move again, she ran straight back to her rooms, as quickly as her old legs would allow. Still panting, she closed the door behind her, relieved that she could shut out the scary apparition she had just met in the hallways. She was definitely getting too old for this. In all the sixty-three years of her life, she had never seen a ghost, and wouldn't have thought that any were haunting the hallways of Naboo Palace.

She had served as the chief-of-wardrobe for many a Queen, and her duties required her to select and prepare the dress her sovereign was to wear each day, and that also meant she had to be the first one up and about every morning. She was one of the best and took pride in her ability to always correctly assess the degree of elaborateness of dress that was required for every occasion.

But today as she had walked through the hallways to the wing of the palace that housed the sadly depleted collection of royal clothes (the Neimoidians had wreaked considerable havoc on the regal wardrobe), she had met a ghost. A real ghost. A real ghost! She still couldn't believe it.

Gradually, her madly hammering heart slowed to a more healthy speed. Superstitia walked over to her husband who was still sleeping peacefully.

"Rea-Son! Rea-Son, wake up," she said, shaking her sleeping spouse awake.

"What is it, Superstitia?" her husband of over forty years mumbled sleepily, his face still pressed against the pillow.

"Rea-Son, I… I've seen a ghost," she gasped, still shaken by the eerie apparition she had met in the hallway.

"Don't be silly, darling," Rea-Son grumbled, ever the sensible one, "there are no such things as ghosts."

"But there are," Superstitia insisted, "I just met one."

"You could not possibly meet one," Rea-Son countered, slowly growing more alert. "There aren't any."

"But I just saw one. I really did! I was just walking along the corridors of the palace like I do every day when I saw him. He must have been a ghost, because I don't think any living person could possibly look that pale and wan without fainting from lack of blood. And he didn't appear to be walking at all; it seemed more like he was floating along the corridor without even touching the floor. His feet didn't make a sound, either. It was a ghostly silence," Superstitia said and shivered from the memory.

"And you wake me with tales of ghosts who wander the halls of the palace just because someone walks quietly? And in the broad daylight, at that? If there really were ghosts, wouldn't they be supposed to only appear at night?"

"Well, then there must be more than just one kind of ghost, mustn't there?" Superstitia snapped in exasperation. "And this particular one can walk in daylight, it seems. He wasn't even transparent at all, as spirits are supposed to be, but looked rock-solid. And now that I come to think of it, he wasn't a spooky kind of ghost, either."

Rea-Son wanted to say that maybe that was because whoever his dear wife had met hadn't in fact been a ghost, but from many years of marriage he had learned that it was unwise indeed to cross her when she was in that mood, so he curbed his tongue. Better to simply last it out.

Rea-Son grunted noncommittally, and Superstitia took that as encouragement to continue.

"No, I think he was more like a lost spirit, sadly wandering the halls of this palace mourning whatever it was he lost. There was such sadness I his eyes," Superstitia continued, and her husband knew that she was about to regale him with another of her hopelessly romantic and utterly unrealistic fantasies. But he didn't mind, seeing as he had quite enjoyed his wife's romantic side when they had been younger.

Superstitia's eyes took on a faraway look as she speculated about the origins of a ghost haunting Theed Palace.

"I bet he lived a very long time ago. He wore such strange, old-fashioned clothes, and the cut of his hair was all unfashionable, too. But I suppose in his time, he must have been a handsome young prince who came here to marry a beautiful young queen. Something must have happened to leave this wraith to haunt the Palace. Probably an evil competitor who also wanted to marry the Queen had him killed, and the Queen died of heartbreak shortly after. Since then, the spirit of this strange prince is wandering these halls, searching for his beloved betrothed but never finding her. Oh, it's so sad!" Superstitia ended with a content sigh, glad to have unravelled the mystery of this sad apparition.

Rea-Son simply shook his head in amused exasperation. His dear Superstitia was always so melodramatic when it came to love stories. It was much more likely that one of the servants had passed her in the hallway, looking a bit drawn from having to get up so early, and that the quiet approach and sudden 'inexplicable' appearance around a corner had startled his overly imaginative wife into thinking she had met an actual ghost.

Neither ever found out just how wrong they were, but Superstitia spread the story of the sad young prince's demise and ensuing existence as a ghost, and over time the sad legend spread amongst the servants of the palace. After some time, other people claimed to have seen the wraith, too, and the tales spread until it became a generally acknowledged fact that a ghost haunted Theed Palace.

oOo

Obi-Wan carefully walked along the corridors, concentrating on first setting one foot in front of the other and then the other one in front of the first instead of moving both feet at once. He had tried to do that earlier, and the results had been not exactly pleasant. He ignored the old woman standing frozen with shock in an adjacent hallway, staring at him with wide eyes. It took him ages to get to his room, but if maybe he took a route that was less than direct and if he passed the same ugly work of art more than once, he was much too tired to notice.

Finally, Obi-Wan found the small apartment the Queen had assigned to him. He opened the door and staggered to his sleepcouch. In the last moment, he noticed that it wasn't his sleepcouch at all, since a mop of sandy hair peeked from beneath all the covers that could possibly have been in the room. For a moment, Obi-Wan just stood there, uncomprehending and wondering if he had chosen the wrong door before he remembered that as his Padawan, Anakin would naturally stay with him. He turned around to the other sleepcouch which Anakin had stripped of its covers – it seemed the boy was perpetually cold – and didn't even bother to take off his boots before he flopped down on the mattress face-down and was asleep before his head even hit the pillow.

oOo

It seemed Obi-Wan had barely closed his eyes when someone insistently shook his shoulder and shouted his name.

"Obi-Wan! Obi-Wan, get up!" that someone shouted, yanking at his sleeve.

Reluctantly, Obi-Wan opened his eyes. It was late morning and the sun shone brightly trough the tall window into the spacious room. It was Anakin who stood next to his bed, looking timid and uncertain about whether shaking one's Jedi Master awake was suitable behaviour. The shy expression was quickly replaced by a barely concealed smile, though, when Anakin looked at Obi-Wan's face which showed red lines from sleeping on it.

"Yes, Anakin?" Obi-Wan mumbled into the pillow, still battling sleep. He dimly remembered having a nightmare in which a dark warrior killed Qui-Gon... but suddenly a painful stab in his chest reminded him that it had not been a nightmare at all. For a moment he had to fight the rising tears before he turned to Anakin.

"Erm, Mister Obi-Wan, sir," Anakin stammered, unsure how to address Obi-Wan now that he wasn't simply Obi-Wan any longer but his new Master.

"Just call me Obi-Wan," the young Jedi instructed Anakin. He didn't feel comfortable being addressed as 'sir' at all, and to be called "mister" seemed downright ridiculous to him.

Anakin's face brightened considerably now that he could talk to Obi-Wan without dreading to make a social gaffe.

"Obi-Wan, it's already morning, and we have to get ready for the parade."

"Huh? Parade? Which parade?" Obi-Wan asked, puzzled as to what Anakin was referring to.

"Yes, the parade. Padmé – erm, I mean Queen Amidala has invited us to stand in a place of honour in the victory parade, and she will make peace with the Gungans. But the parade starts in two hours, and I haven't even had any breakfast yet," Anakin finished, all but whining.

"Oh," Obi-Wan said somewhat lamely. "All right."

Obi-Wan got up and straightened his clothes. He fixed Anakin up with some breakfast and then retreated to the refresher to take a quick, cold shower to help him get properly awake. Out of habit, his hand went behind his right ear to fix his Padawan braid only to find this symbol of his apprenticeship gone.

But this also reminded him there was another apprentice without a braid: Anakin's haircut still looked like someone had put a pot over the boy's head and cut off any hair that still showed – that was not the proper haircut for a Padawan. Searching the cabinet in the bathroom, he found a pair of scissors to cut Anakin's hair with. The boy was still happily munching his breakfast, but gave Obi-Wan a shy smile when he spotted him. Obi-Wan answered with a hesitant smile himself.

"So, are you enjoying your breakfast, Anakin?" he inquired somewhat awkwardly. He had no idea what to talk about with his apprentice.

"Well, it doesn't taste as nice as my mom's pancakes," Anakin munched, "but it's all right."

When Anakin finished the last bites, Obi-Wan suggested: "So, let's make you a real Jedi, shall we?"

Enthusiastically, Anakin jumped up from his chair and excitedly ran over to Obi-Wan.

"**Yeahie**! I'll become a real Jedi! Uhm, but how do we do it?"

"Well, first we shall cut your hair, and then you will need the proper clothes," Obi-Wan answered.

Warily, Anakin eyed the scissors in Obi-Wan's hand. "What kind of haircut is proper for a Padawan? 'Cause I don't want to look like that guy on the Council afterwards."

"Which of those 'guys on the Council' are you talking about, Anakin?" Obi Wan asked, one eyebrow drawn up both in warning and amusement.

"I don't really care which one, they all have bad haircuts," Anakin answered nonchalantly.

That earned him a soft chuckle from Obi-Wan.

"No, your haircut will look no worse and no better than the one I sported until yesterday. And don't let the august Masters of the Council hear your assessment of their hairdos," Obi-Wan said.

Anakin still frowned, but he didn't protest as Obi-Wan cut off his hair, only leaving a strand behind his right ear and enough for the lock at the back of his head. When he was finished, Anakin doubtfully tugged at the thin lock of hair behind his ear.

"This isn't going to make much of an impressive braid," Anakin remarked.

"Oh, we can do something about that," Obi-Wan said, searching for his own braid somewhere in his pockets. Carefully, he undid one end of it the coppery tresses and cut off a short length. Anakin looked on with fascination as Obi-Wan wove the red hair into his own blond curls so that the tip of the braid just brushed his shoulder. Then, almost reverently, Obi-Wan undid one of the beads on the cut braid in his hand and fastened in onto Anakin's.

"This one has been a gift from Qui-Gon when I became his Padawan," Obi-Wan almost whispered. "Now, I give it to you so that you also have something to remember him by."

Anakin reverently touched the single faded bead at the end of this braid made from both his and Obi-Wan's hair.

"Thank you," he whispered back, not wanting to destroy the solemn mood.

For a moment, Anakin thought he saw something like wistfulness and sadness steal over Obi-Wan's features as the young Jedi stared at the braid he still held. But then Anakin blinked, and the expression was gone, leaving behind the constantly blank face Obi-Wan had been wearing since Qui-Gon's death.

The moment was broken by a smart rap on their door. A servant of the palace had come, bringing the Jedi tunics for Anakin with regards from the Council, and reminded them that "If attend, the parade you will, hurry you must, or late, you will be." It was clearly a message from Yoda telling them to get moving, which they did. Obi-Wan ushered Anakin into the fresher to take a shower and wash off all the hairs that had fallen into Anakin's collar and had started itching terribly after some time. Obi-Wan heard the water being turned on, thankful that Anakin didn't make any trouble or raise any objection. But when the water was turned off again exactly 2.7 standard seconds later, Obi-Wan didn't think this a good sign.

"Anakin, why is the water not running?" he asked through the door.

"Because I'm already finished showering, and I used up more water than I have in the previous nine years of my existence in the process," Anakin's reply came back, muffled a bit by the door. "Just imagine, there's water coming _out of the wall_! This is not natural."

"Well, to be honest, on most planets, water coming out of the wall is perfectly normal, at least in the fresher, and I fear you'll have to get used to it," Obi-Wan told a baffled Anakin. "And I fear that the degree of cleanness you gained by this minuscule shower is not acceptable for a royal parade. I fear it may not be acceptable at all. So either you get back into the shower and wash with soap and all, or I will have to dunk you into the nearest pond, and I'm not sure whether the Queen's personal goldfish would like that."

"You would do that?" Anakin's confusion and disbelief were clearly audible in his voice.

"No, of course not, it was a joke," Obi-Wan answered with a sigh, wondering why Anakin never took him serious except when he didn't mean to be taken serious.

"Oh, okay." Anakin's answer still sounded unsure. There was some rummaging and the water was turned back on and immediately turned back off.

"So what is this soap-thingy you were talking about?" Anakin asked from inside the fresher.

oOo

They were nearly too late for the parade. Obi-Wan was rushing through the deserted palace towards the broad avenue where the festivities were to take place, dragging Anakin behind him. The Queen wanted to thank them for their assistance in the liberation of Naboo, and not being there was simply not an option – if it had been, Obi-Wan personally would have opted to stay away. So they arrived just in time to earn themselves disapproving glares from the assembled Jedi High Council, whose members were also to stand next to the Queen during the ceremony. As soon as they had taken their places, the whole throng of handmaidens, Jedi, dignitaries and all the inevitable politicians fell in step behind Queen Amidala.

Anakin was dazzled by the pure white of the Queen's gown, which was elaborately decorated and resplendent with a million tiny pearls and layers upon layers of shiny white silk. He couldn't help but think that she really did look like an angel, only that angels probably didn't wear all that much paint in their faces, and the backs of their clothes probably weren't adorned with what looked like the top part of an umbrella. But despite the silly umbrella-thing fixed to her back, Anakin thought Padmé couldn't look any more beautiful.

Slowly, they walked out onto a wide platform at the head of the wide avenue that led towards the palace's main entrance. On both sides of a wide path that led straight towards them, more people than Anakin had ever seen were cheering for their Queen and waving colourful ribbons. They came to stand in the exact middle of the plaza, Anakin and Obi-Wan as "heroes of Naboo", as they had been termed, standing in the place of honour to the immediate right of the Queen.

The Queen and the newly elected Chancellor both gave a speech, thanking the brave people of Naboo for holding out against the overpowering might of the Trade Federation and the Jedi and Anakin for their courageous and valiant help in freeing their home planet. They also expressed their sorrow about Qui-Gon's unfortunate demise in varying degrees of sincerity.

Anakin was positively basking in all the applause and laudation, his smile stretched from one ear to the other. Obi-Wan, on the other hand, had never been comfortable with being the focus of attention. He didn't mind the short-lived and superficial admiration of Naboo's citizens so much, but the fervent stares of appraisal the handmaidens sent his way were almost frightening in their intensity, and they made him want to shift uncomfortably. It was not uncommon for a successful mission to end in celebration, and Obi-Wan was at best not opposed to it or at least didn't mind. But the empty space where his Master used to stand was a cruel reminder that this mission had not been a complete success. Usually, Qui-Gon would ride the heady waves of revelry that rippled through the Living Force on occasions like that, growing more intoxicated that mere alcohol could ever make him, and without the deleterious aftereffects, too. But now, instead of his Master, his Padawan stood next to Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan roughly shoved these thoughts out of his mind. None of this was Anakin's fault, and he didn't want to spoil the occasion for his apprentice who was so clearly enjoying his first parade that was at least partly in his honour. Anakin stood there, puffing his puny chest out and beaming so brightly he rivalled the sun. And although Anakin's exuberance managed to put a small smile on Obi-Wan's face, he couldn't help but think that this mission had not been a success, not with the loss of Qui-Gon.

It seemed Master Yoda was of similar opinion. When Chancellor Palpatine grandly stated that it would not have been a victory without the help of Anakin, Yoda quietly harrumphed.

"A victory, this was not. Begun, the Clone Wars have!" he disagreed disgruntledly.

Then, as if puzzled by his own words, the diminutive green Master scratched his head, frowning at the Jedi standing next to him and hoping that no one had heard him muttering nonsense. Yoda suspected that if he did that too often, the rest of the Council would cease to listen to him at all and eventually declare him too senile to sit on the Council, forcing him to live the remainder of his days on some dreary out-of-the-way planet like Dagobah.

Chancellor Palpatine talked at length about his own contribution to Naboo's liberation, which had been minimal at best but which was completely blown out of proportion in his description.

Despite his best efforts, Obi-Wan's attention started to wander, and soon his eyelids started to droop. There was nothing better to make one sleepy than the ramblings of conceited politicians. And Palpatine kept droning on and on:

"… and I promise to never stop fighting against corruption, until all corrupt Senators will be abolished because I have replaced the Senate with myself, and my omniregency will know no bounds. And in my new Empire, there will be no more war, except for those quarrelsome rebels, but we will crush these warmongers with my secret superweapon, the Death Star!"

Palpatine paused for effect. Since everyone had stopped listening to the Chancellor, the crowd broke out in joyous cheers, as was expected of them. Obi-Wan's head snapped back up, and suddenly he was fully awake again, as if someone had emptied a bucketful of icy water over his head. Had the Chancellor just said something about 'his new Empire'? Obi-Wan frowned. An Empire was completely unacceptable, and his allegiance was to the Republic, to democracy!

But now Palaptine was quite innocently talking about the valiant Gungans who had fought for the Naboo, and Obi-Wan shook his head. He must have been dreaming. Although Obi-Wan disliked the way Palpatine's mouth twisted just the tiniest bit in mockery as he honoured the Gungans and the way his eyes glittered with mendaciousness, the thought that the Chancellor of the Republic would openly declare his intentions of styling himself Emperor seemed ridiculous.

Nevertheless, Obi-Wan decided he better pay attention just in case it had not just been a disturbing dream and the Chancellor let his tongue slip a second time. The Chancellor wrapped his speech up with more flowery words and insincere, oily smiles than Obi-Wan could stomach but no more strange proclamations of dictatorships to come. It must have been a dream, after all.

As seemed to be the wont of every politician in the entire universe, everyone of even the slightest importance had something to say, and the good-natured crowd were so glad to be freed from the Trade Federation's oppression that they even welcomed the hundredth repetition of the same meaning in slightly different words with loud cheers.

Finally, though, the endless speeches were over. Hundreds of identical Gungans armed with drums and horns paraded along the avenue, their racket almost droning out the choir. The song they sang was a well-known one on Naboo when it came to the melody, but the lyrics varied practically in every family. No consensus had been found about the version to be used at the parade, so the colourful wording had been exchanged for simple syllables. The yellow spaceships used to attack the Trade Federation's battlestation flew over the city with whining engines, and confetti blew through the streets. The people waved with brightly coloured pennants and applauded the Gungan army.

Amidst the marching Gungans rode Boss Nass in on the back of a heavyset animal, flanked by Jar Jar and Captain Tarpals on smaller steeds.

Jar Jar was grinning like an idiot (which actually would mean a significant step up the ladder of intelligence when it comes to that particular Gungan) and waving wildly to the crowd.

"Hidoe, everybody!" he shouted, but thankfully his intellectually challenged screeching couldn't be heard above the din.

The Gungan Boss sat atop his sturdy mount, straight-backed and since he did not slobber that day he even looked every bit as royal as the Queen. The whole procession came to a standstill in front of the stairs. Jar Jar got his lanky leg tangled in his stirrup and stumbled around pathetically, but unfortunately he didn't rid the galaxy of his annoying self by bashing his head in on the hard flagstone paving. Boss Nass, despite his bulky girth, dismounted gracefully, sliding down the great height from the animal's back and jumped down on the ground.

Anakin frowned down at the Gungan. He could clearly see the glowing orb in the hands of the Governor, and he looked doubtfully at Padmé. Suddenly, he didn't like that white dress quite as much, anymore. Why had Padmé chosen white? And why did the Gungan Boss look so smug? Why did he come riding in, in dazzling finery atop his lumbering mount? Anakin frowned questioningly up at Obi-Wan, but his new Master didn't say anything. What did that mean? Anakin pondered the situation, but being the slow learner that he was, it took him a few minutes to figure it out.

The three Gungans walked up the stairs and Queen Amidala stepped forward, facing the Gungan Boss. Suddenly, Anakin realized what this meant. He ran forward, taking a deep breath to shout his denial. How could Padmé do that? And Anakin had thought Padmé liked _him_…

oOo

Obi-Wan was watching the Gungans approaching and thought that maybe not all hope was lost for that people. Jar Jar was his usual bumbling self, but the other two Gungans behaved in an appropriate and dignified manner. All of a sudden, a small blond form whisked past him and Anakin's wild emotions beat against his shields. Lightning-quick, Obi-Wan's hand shot out and stopped Anakin's headlong rush by tightly clasping the boy's shoulder. The long and lound "Noooooooooo!" Anakin was about to scream got stuck in his throat.

Obi-Wan unobstrusively crouched down next to Anakin.

"Padawan, this is an important ceremony. You must not interrupt it," he quietly explained. "What's the matter, Anakin?" he asked, worried by the urgent desperation written plainly across the boy's face.

"She can't do that to me!" Anakin whispered frantically. "She can't!"

"She can't what, Anakin?" Obi-Wan gently coaxed his apprentice.

"She can't marry the Gungan Boss! Only now do I understand what all this means. The white dress? The glowing orb? Boss Nass all dressed up in his Sunday's best? These stupid politicians are forcing her to marry the slobbering Gungan! She can't marry him. She has to marry me! She will be _my_ wife, and she will carry _my_ children, not some ugly little Gungan pollywogs. I must stop this before it's too late. I don't want to share my future wife with anyone!" Anakin seemed near to tears.

Obi-Wan blinked a few times, unsure which of the myriad issues Anakin had just raised he should address first. The boy stared in despair as Padmé presented the Gungan Boss with the glowing orb, and Boss Nass took it and raised it above his head.

"Peace!" his powerful voice boomed across the plaza.

Anakin gasped and struggled against Obi-Wan's hold.

"Anakin, calm down! Anakin!" Obi-Wan whispered imploringly. "Padmé isn't marrying anybody. This ceremony seals the peace the Gungans have made with the Naboo."

"Oh." Understanding mingled with no small amount of embarrassment dawned on Anakin's face. "Oh! So it wasn't a marriage, at all? It's all right, then. And forget what I said about wanting to marry Padmé. Girls are yucky – well, most girls are, at least." Anakin finished somewhat lamely.

Obi-Wan considered talking with Anakin about this obsessive attachment and jealousy his Padawan had revealed when it came to Padmé, but half the Council was already sending him reproachful glares for talking during the ceremony. He straightened again, but left one hand lightly resting on Anakin's shoulder both to reassure and calm the boy and to keep him from doing any more stupid things.

Padmé turned around and smiled first warmly at Anakin, who answered with a lopsided smile of his own. When she couldn't catch Obi-Wan's eyes, because the Jedi was stubbornly staring at the crowd, she turned away again.

A lot of silent vows were made that moment. Anakin vowed that he would one day marry Padmé. Padmé vowed to do everything in her power to catch Obi-Wan's attention, even if she had to fake a few assassination attempts on herself to meet him again. And Obi-Wan silently renewed the promise he had given to Qui-Gon, and Anakin was sorely in need of all the training he could possibly put his hands on, as he had proven once again just now. Obi-Wan vowed to instruct his new Padawan to the best of his abilities.

Together, they experienced many an adventure, but of these shall be told elsewhere.

oOo

Edited 29th August, 2011


	36. Chapter 36

**Epilogue**

Author's note: WOOOOOHOOOOO, I am finally back. Sorry that it took me more than half a year to write this, I was terminally busy during the last eight months. Now that I have returned to the land of the living and the fanfiction writers, I hope you like this definitely last instalment to my very own epic.

Disclaimer: I own neither Star Wars nor the Clone Wars, nor Sigmund Freud, the Supernanny, George Lucas, Justin Bieber, Stephenie Meyer, Ludwig van Beethoven, Moulin Rouge, the Simpsons, the Oxford Advanced Learner's Dictionary or anything else I might have forgotten to mention here.

oOo

After the grand parade and all the festivities in celebration of Naboo's liberation, the citizens of the recently freed planet mostly went back to restoring their planet to its former beauty, which the invasion by the Trade Federation had scratched off in some places. The Masters of the Jedi High Council retired to a conference room that had been placed at their disposal. The Queen retired to her quarters, accompanied by her handmaidens, because a change of clothes was long overdue. The newly elected Chancellor retired to his personal residence in Theed. He barely made it in time; just a few seconds longer and the insane, evil cackle he had been suppressing so far would have found its way out into the public even past his usually impenetrable Sith shields, and his image as the benevolent, grandfatherly new ruler of the Galaxy would be indelibly tarnished. Obi-Wan and Anakin went back to their room.

All of them, though, no matter who they were or where they retired to, spent a variable amount of time thinking during the afternoon – thinking about the Phantom Menace.

oOo

As soon as Chancellor Palpatine reached his lavishly furnished home in Theed, the mad cackle inexorably broke out of him. He was laughing at the stupidity of all these oh-so-wise high-and-mighty Jedi. He was practically taking over control right before their eyes, and they were so absorbed in staying serene and in the futile passive contemplation of the ever-darkening shadow that was growing in the Force – a shadow he, Darth Sidious, the most insidious and the most brilliant of evil masterminds since Sigmund Freud, the Supernanny or George Lucas, was the source of – that they never noticed what their greatest enemy was doing right beneath their lofty noses. But the entire order of Jedi were easily outclassed by a single Sith Lord as Justin Bieber was outclassed by Ludwig van Beethoven, as Stephenie Meyer was outclassed by Bram Stoker, as the Clone Wars Series was severely outclassed by the Star Wars Movies. Sidious only regretted that the Jedi would never be able to admire the ingenuity of his plans before they all died.

The Sith Lord's mad cackle only intensified when he thought about his recently deceased apprentice. Maul had been amusing, even useful, for a while. He had even managed to kill that nuisance Jinn, but he had shamefully failed with Kenobi, a mere _Padawan_! If Maul were not dead already, Sidious would have enjoyed killing his former apprentice himself for this disgusting failure. At least the appearance of Maul, however disappointingly short it might have been, would occupy the Jedi for a very long time indeed, and it would serve admirably to upset and unsettle the public, which was after all a major part of his plan.

These Jedi idiots probably even thought that Maul was the Phantom Menace. A more laughably stupid thing was hardly conceivable. Maul was blatantly malicious; he even looked evil at first glance. He could have been the Obvious Menace, but most definitely not the Phantom Menace. Still, Sidious was not willing to accept the title as his own. That would sound too much like he was some kind of creep hiding in the secret catacombs of some opera house, concealing his disfigured face behind a pathetic mask that covered only half his face. And while Sidious could accept spooking people, be it in an opera house or not, and he supposed he would even grow used to hiding in secret passageways and behind mirrors – after all, he was a master of stealth and furtiveness - he could not picture himself bursting into song all the time, and apparently that was mandatory for the classical phantom.

No, Sidious was definitely not the singing kind of Sith. His powerful, but occasionally raspy voice sounded much better proclaiming his Empire or enticing people to give in to their rage. Someone else must be that Phantom Menace. Sidious pondered this for a moment before deciding that, no matter how strange this might sound at first, it could only refer to the Jedi Order's newest Knight, Obi-Wan Kenobi. Although the Sith Lord didn't count the young Jedi as much of a menace – not even after what happened to Darth Maul – Obi-Wan inexplicably seemed more like the kind of man to start singing at short notice. Coming to think of it, his voice might actually make for very good singing, though Sidious had never heard him sing and probably never would.

Sidious considered this for a few moments longer. He even researched Kenobi on the holonet and in the Republic archives. There was not much – all of the truly useful information on any Jedi was highly classified, but as the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic that did not bother him much. Mostly, though, the Jedi stored the information on their members in their own, extensive archives, and apparently not even he had the clearance to access those.

Out of curiosity, Sidious picked one of the many acquaintances Kenobi had made on his numerous missions. The Duchess Satine of Mandalore must be more than a passing acquaintance since Kenobi and his Master had spent quite some time protecting her some years ago. She seemed to be a desirable woman: slender, blonde, exquisitely beautiful face – definitely the kind of woman that might make a man of the commensurate disposition sing songs to her. Maybe Kenobi sang only to Satine? The Sith Lord decided to ask her, should a convenient chance arrive. After all, it was not completely impossible that this Jedi would turn out a lot more dangerous to his plans than he might seem now, and it would not do to ignore a warning right at the start of his grab for power, no matter how ridiculous and far-fetched it seemed.

In his opinion, a truly evil Dark Sider always had to be ready to deal with anything as if it had been part of the original plan.

oOo

Padmé imagined something that was not so very far from what Palpatine had feared. As her handmaidens assisted her in changing her dress, her mind temporarily relocated to a dreamland of her own. She had once attended a musical that told about some kind of Phantom in an opera house, and that was the first thing that came to her mind when she had first heard about that Phantom Menace.

Now she was envisioning a similar story happening inside Theed Palace. She saw herself as the young, beautiful ruler of the planet who always presented a strong façade but who wanted someone to hold and protect her. She found that someone in the blue-eyed, red-haired Phantom who watched over her from the shadows, only daring to step out of his hiding place when she was alone, and they would sing the most beautiful songs together. A deep sigh escaped her at the idea of such a romantic, secret relationship.

Rabé rolled her eyes at Sabé as she heard that sigh.

"It seems My Lady is daydreaming about Padawan Gorgeous again," she remarked.

"It's Knight Gorgeous now, silly," Sabé rebuked her, playfully swatting at her shoulder.

Both handmaidens dissolved in giggles.

oOo

Once the members of the Jedi Council arrived at their temporary Council Chamber, Yoda immediately hobbled to his chair and climbed into it. With a deep sigh, he settled into the custom-made cushion of his Council chair, which remembered the contours of his backside exactly and thus gave it its special comfortableness. Yoda's feet hurt from standing on them for too long. He was no longer as sprightly and nimble at 900 years as he used to be in his youthful second century.

As he sat down, Yoda closed his eyes and his ears dropped. Whenever he adopted that posture, people usually assumed that he was deep in thought, contemplating the mysteries of the Force or meditating, when in reality, the plain truth was that Yoda dozed off. That was another disadvantage of growing old.

When Yoda woke up again after about two minutes of slumber, he cracked his eyes open and watched his fellow Councillors through heavy-lidded and barely open eyes. He was a bit worried because the title of this episode, this ominous Phantom Menace, implied that there was somewhere a threat they hadn't discovered yet. Once again, Yoda wondered if the Sith that had been killed was the Master or the Apprentice, and if either would be preferable. Still, Yoda did not think that the title referred to the Sith. That menace was plenty obvious by now, and Qui-Gon had known about it long before them. No, the Phantom Menace must be something they did not know about yet, something that must have emerged during the last few days.

There were quite a few new issues that had come to the Jedi Master's attention since Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan had left for Naboo. For one, there was the young Queen, who had handled the whole Naboo debacle admirably and with not too many teenage tantrums, but in Yoda's opinion, the only one who was likely to term her a menace (though of course he would never do so openly) was a certain former Padawan who was being stalked by her.

Jar Jar Binks, Qui-Gon's penultimate pet project, however, seemed like a huge menace. He might not be consciously a menace, but that made him all the more dangerous because since he didn't have any, not even a Jedi could sense his bad intentions. Jar Jar was the kind of idiotic fool who would act as a stand-in for an important politician and make the exact proposal that said politician had worked very hard to prevent and that would prove fatal in the end. Still, to give something as pathetic and ludicrous as Jar Jar a title as ominous and threatening as "the Phantom Menace" was simply outrageous.

Yoda immediately discarded the idea of the title referring to Chancellor Palpatine. He seemed such a nice, benevolent, grandfatherly kind of man, even though Obi-Wan seemed to have taken an instant disliking to that man – even more than to the average politician. And he was not the only one: Master Windu had also voiced his concerns about their new Supreme Chancellor, although he couldn't say what bothered him about the man. No, Chancellor Palpatine did not seem like the kind of person to style himself totalitarian ruler of his own empire. Why would he be one, when he already was the leader of the whole Republic?

Anakin Skywalker, on the other hand…

Yoda still did not feel comfortable about that boy. His future was clouded, that much he could clearly see. Unfortunately, that was the only thing Yoda could clearly see about Anakin. His eyesight was also no longer what it used to be, apparently. Still, Yoda was quite fond of all the young initiates he had taught during his long lifetime, though of course he would never admit that. And Anakin looked actually quite cute, with his slightly dimpled cheeks, the huge, bright blue eyes, the sandy hair, even his slight pout could be quite charming. Had Anakin grown up inside the Jedi Temple, he would probably have been one of Yoda's favourite initiates.

Yoda never showed this affection for certain Jedi – except maybe that their shins got whacked a bit more frequently – but inside he had a soft spot for quite a few of his fellow Jedi. But unlike most of the children who grew up at the Temple, Anakin already had attachments, buried and potentially dangerous emotions and showed sometimes questionably warped morals. He was proud and defiant and rash and quick to anger. And yet, he was just a boy. So long as Obi-Wan made sure his Padawan didn't get involved too closely with, say, female Senators, and went to the Dark Side to protect this then pregnant Senator from some imaginary harm, everything should be alright.

Still, Yoda decided that Anakin would receive more than the average amount of shin-whacking, just to keep him from stumbling and falling. Despite (or maybe because of) all his senile wisdom, Yoda did not see the discrepancy in his last thought.

oOo

**Phantom **_noun, adj_

**noun** **1 **a GHOST **2** a thing that exists only in your imagination

**adj. **[only before noun] **1** like a GHOST **2** existing only in your imagination

Obi-Wan closed the dictionary, deep in thought. His thoughts, too, circled incessantly around this Phantom Menace. The only one who seemed completely unworried was Anakin, who was probably too overwhelmed by the last few days to worry about anything that didn't concern him directly.

Obi-Wan had checked the exact meaning of the word "phantom". Although Qui-Gon had tried to break him of that habit, Obi-Wan could not stop worrying about the future. And this menace so dramatically described as having a phantom-like quality did not exactly promise a bright future. Still, there seemed to be less to that threat than everyone thought, if you looked behind the terribly gloomy and ominous sound at the actual meaning of the words.

The idea that the menace might actually in any way relate to a ghost was immediately discarded. Obi-Wan highly doubted the actual existence of ghosts – there has never been a verified appearance of one in the whole galaxy so far. Even if ghosts should, against all probability, exist after all, Obi-Wan did not think that something as insubstantial as a ghost could even as much as influence anything important, let alone actually do anything like help in the downfall of a government.

But that left only one other possibility: that this menace existed only in his imagination. Did that mean that he was going crazy and paranoid, along with all the other people in the galaxy? Then again, most people did not know the details of what had happened on this mission. To most people, the blockade and subsequent liberation of Naboo were but a footnote in history, unimportant and soon to be forgotten, and they didn't know about the re-emergence of the Sith, nor would they understand the implications if they did.

This Phantom Menace could not refer to the Sith he had fought, because this menace had certainly not been a ghost, and he had most positively been very real – no matter how much Obi-Wan wished that he weren't, because figments of his imagination would not have been able to kill Qui-Gon. So no matter how much Darth Maul had prided himself on his ominous-sounding soubriquet, it had not been his at all. Except if he should return as a ghost and thus become a threat (though a very insubstantial one) once again, Darth Maul could lay no claim to that title.

So this threatening person had to be someone else. Obi-Wan immediately discarded Anakin as a possible choice with quite a bad conscience because he had considered the possibility at all. After all, it was not as if the boy was intrinsically evil and would inescapably turn to the Dark Side, no matter what the nagging bad feeling might have to say about that. Anakin was friendly and curious and bright and always eager to help people. Admittedly he was also jealous, proud and possessive and had a quick temper, but he was a young boy who had grown up like a normal child and not within the strict and unnatural rigidness of the Jedi Temple, so he could not be compared to a Jedi Initiate of the same age. Anakin was still a child, he would surely learn to control his emotions, given time and guidance. If Anakin was a menace, then it could certainly only be in Obi-Wan's imagination and not in reality.

Chancellor Palpatine, on the other hand, was in a powerful enough position to become a very real and very dangerous threat. Obi-Wan imagined that he could dimly remember how the Supreme Chancellor had given him a disturbing leaflet, but the night after Qui-Gon's funeral had been the strangest of his life so far, and he didn't trust anything he remembered from that night. The Knight suspected that Qui-Gon's death had left him more unsettled than he liked to admit.

Or maybe the Phantom Menace was comparable to phantom pain. If phantom pains were perceptions relating to a limb or organ that was not physically part of the body, then perhaps a Phantom Menace was a threat caused by someone who was no longer physically present. That would be the perfect combination between both meanings of the word "phantom": an imagined threat from a ghost.

Obi-Wan had much greater difficulties in discarding this theory, because he kept imagining he could from time to time sense a faint echo of his Master's presence. Obi-Wan just hoped that this was simply caused by lack of sleep and the strain of the last few days, and that he was not really going crazy.

Indeed, after some rest, Obi-Wan did not have reason to doubt his sanity again until a fateful day some thirteen years later, when he unmistakably heard the voice of his long-deceased Master Qui-Gon Jinn as the thick end of the worst day of his life.

oOo

_Some years later…_

"Ah, Duchess Satine," Palpatine greeted the ruler of Mandalore with a gracious nod of his head.

"Chancellor Palpatine," the Duchess greeted in return with a graceful courtesy.

"I trust you had a pleasant journey?"

"Yes, my trip was quite uneventful," she reassured the Chancellor, who seemed not as perfectly pleased at these news as politeness dictated.

"Excellent," Palpatine said, pressing the fingertips of his right hand against those of his left while slightly hunching over his thus steepled fingers. For a second, his expression looked almost diabolical, but it was replaced with the usual worried but benevolent mask the Chancellor never seemed to have taken off since the beginning of the war almost immediately.

"Chancellor, I came to talk to you because of the unrest on Mandalore –"

Satine was rather surprised when the Supreme Chancellor silenced her with a gesture.

"Yes, Duchess, certainly. Say, I believe you are acquaintance with Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi, aren't you?" Palpatine enquired.

Satine was a bit baffled by that question, but her political training kept her from showing that surprise. "Yes, your Excellency. Your information is correct. Quite a few years ago, when Master Kenobi was still a Padawan, he and his Master Qui-Gon Jinn were assigned to protect me," she warily offered.

"Say, Duchess, if I may be so bold to ask – did Master Kenobi ever sing to you?"

This time, despite all her political training, the bewilderment showed clearly on the face of Duchess Satine.

oOo

Author's note: Now that I am back, I hope you can expect another (though much shorter) story in the near future. I hope I didn't step on anyone's toes with my comments about Justin Bieber, Stephenie Meyer or the Clone Wars Series. I just used it to make clear how one part of my example is a real classic and the other one – is not.

Also, I was absolutely appalled when I first heard the name of Duchess Satine. I mean, it's apparently not enough that that woman _looks_ as much like Nicole Kidman as the strange angular cartoon characters allow. But to give her the name of Nicole Kidman's part in the movie "Moulin Rouge", the courtesan who falls in love with Ewan McGregor's part just about beats it. First of all, I feel like they tried to insult my intelligence, and secondly, shouldn't there be a copyright law to prevent such obvious copying of characters, names and all? It seems like George Lucas just created an angular version of Nicole Kidman, gave her a fancy title and put her in his series. Pretty pathetic, if you ask me.

So for all those who did not get my jokes in this last chapter, the movie "Moulin Rouge" is kind of a musical, where Nicole Kidman and Ewan McGregor actually do sing quite a lot (and none too bad, either).

As for this story, I regret to announce this is the end:

The End

You have to imagine these words in bold, brightly yellow letters floating through space, and not only do they signify the end of this story but they will someday crash into the first Death Star, causing it to explode and thus cement Luke's reputation as a pilot as skilled and daring as his father once was.

Besides, there's nothing like quoting Bilbo when it comes to announcing the end. Although he's just a Hobbit with no idea of the universe I'm talking about, he does have a certain flair when it comes to goodbyes, doesn't he?

I would like to thank everyone who stayed with me this long. I especially would like to thank everyone who left a review or sent me a word, but I also appreciate all the readers who didn't find the time or the right words to review. You rock, all of you!

Besides, this story is fully edited. In case I missed any mistakes, please feel free to point them out and I will do my best to straighten them out. Also, I put all the extremely long words back in that this page somehow threw out; I hope they stayed in this time. If you get the impression that there is a word missing somewhere, please also notify me so that I can put it back in (maybe slightly modified, so that it doesn't get thrown out again).

I would like to say that no matter how old this story is when you read it and which year it is, please feel free to leave a review. If it is signed, I guarantee that I will reply to it at length (probably at more length that you would have wished for). If you liked this story, I made you laugh, you have some criticism to offer or just feel like you want to make an author who loves reviews happy, please leave me a short note. Reviews are the only kind of payment authors on this site will ever receive, and they can be worth so much more than just impersonal money could ever be.

Thanks to everyone who read this!


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